NARRATOR: Today is a special in Greater Boston. Today is the day that Jake Fisher arrives from another world through some strange time traveling device that I don’t fully understand. It’s got something to do with doors and a place called . . . Ostium. In just a few moments he’ll walk through that door and onto the platform at Alewife station on the Red Line. I don’t really know why he’s coming here, at least not yet. But perhaps once he makes his dramatic entrance, I will know and comprehend more.

And here he is now. 

Enter one Jake Fisher.

His clothes are wrinkled and disheveled, his hair unkempt. He appears to have gone through a lot. I’m curious as to when he last slept. My guess is as good as yours, even though I’m the narrator. You see Jake Fisher doesn’t belong in this world. He is a visitor here, a stranger, an interloper, one might even say . . . An intruder. 

Does he belong here? That’s a decision you will have to arrive at.

[Short pause] 

Jake Fisher is walking onto the platform, looking at the Alewife Station sign, wondering where he is and perhaps more importantly, why he is here . . .

JAKE: Are you . . . Are you talking to me?

NARRATOR: He is confused at the moment. Unsure of what is going on . . .

JAKE: You know I can hear you, right?

NARRATOR: The questions continue as he tries to understand what has happened to him, and where he has ended up this time. Perhaps Jake Fish-

JAKE: Please stop that. I can hear everything you’re saying. Who are you? Where are you?

NARRATOR: Wait, you’re telling the truth? You really can hear me?

JAKE: Yes. What’s going on here? 

NARRATOR: That . . . That has never happened before. There have been plenty of occasions where I have tried to reach someone, and even more when I have really wanted to, but all to no avail. Except now . . . Maybe it has something to do with your being from the outside? Not from here.

JAKE: Where even is here? Alewife? What kind of name is that for a train station?

NARRATOR: It is named after Alewife Brook. You are standing on a platform of the Red Line in Greater Boston.

JAKE: Boston huh? And . . . What year is it? Nothing really jumps at me indicating it’s the distant past or future.

NARRATOR: The year is 2018.

JAKE: Oh, okay then. Don’t know if I ever expected to be back in such a contemporary year, where nothing big really happened, related to Ostium at least.

NARRATOR: There is a lot happening in 2018. The incorporation of the town of Red Line. The election of its new mayor. Not to mention the whole “molasses incident.”

JAKE: The town of Red Line? I thought this was a subway line?

NARRATOR: Oh it is. But a group of people decided to make the Red Line better. More efficient. To get people to where they want to go faster. And to make this line of the T a better place for all who inhabit it. 

JAKE: Wait! If it’s its own town, then where do the people live? In homes near the stations?

NARRATOR: No. They live on the trains. Two or more people or entire families live in the train cars.

JAKE: With all those seats? Do they sleep on them? In sleeping bags perhaps?

NARRATOR: No, silly. The cars have been converted into homes for the people that live there.

JAKE: Wow, that’s something I’ve got to see.

NARRATOR: In two minutes you shall have your wish, when the 10:40 arrives.

[Break]

[Train rolling into station]

JAKE: Holy shit. I thought you were kidding. You’re goddamn serious.

NARRATOR: Deadly.

JAKE: They really are living on the train. Looks like most of the train cars. And there are the people, just living in their homes . . . On the train car. And the passengers get on . . . In their homes. 

NARRATOR: Indeed. And you need to get on too. 

JAKE: Why? Where are we going?

NARRATOR: You’ll see in time. 

[Train door whooshing open]

[Muttering voices]

JAKE: Hi, hi. Excuse me. Thank you. I’ll just stand here. Sorry to bother you. Don’t mind me.

JAKE [whispering]: I feel really uncomfortable right now. This feels so weird. 

NARRATOR: You shouldn’t feel so. This is just a normal day on the Red Line. 

JAKE [whispering]: Can they hear you talking to me?

NARRATOR: No. But people can hear you talking to me.

JAKE [whispering, exasperated]: That’s why I’m whispering.

NARRATOR: No shit, Sherlock.

JAKE [whispering]: Okay, I didn’t expect. Why are you even talking to me anyway? Are you Marley’s ghost or something?

NARRATOR: Very droll. No. I am the current narrator for Greater Boston, and today I am narrating your story. 

JAKE [whispering]: Do you narrate everyone’s story?

NARRATOR: Yes. There was another narrator, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He found me annoying, I suppose.

JAKE [whispering, sarcastic]: I wonder why.

NARRATOR: Unlike the other narrator, I will have you know I have free will. I don’t have to narrate your story. I choose to because you are a new player in this field and I want to know more of your story and reason for being here. But I can leave you to your own doings anytime I wish.

JAKE [whispering, desperate]: Please don’t. I . . . I need your help here. You said you were taking me somewhere.

NARRATOR: That’s not true. The train is taking you to this specific destination. I merely told you to get on said train.

JAKE: [whispering]: Okay, but you had a reason, right? 

NARRATOR: Yes.

JAKE [whispering]: So where are we going?

NARRATOR: We’re not going anywhere. I am an incorporeal being narrating this tale and have no physical location per se in this universe. You however . . .

JAKE [whispering]: Okay, fine. Where am I going?

NARRATOR: You’ll see.

JAKE: [whispering]: Dammit.

[Break]

NARRATOR: You may disembark at the next station.

[Train slowing]

[Doors opening]

[Murmurings]

JAKE: Thank you for letting me into your home, and on the wonderful Red Line. [Quietly] God, this place is weird.

NARRATOR: Live here for a while. You’ll find it has its charm, its own unique ways, and a joie de vivre you won’t find elsewhere.

JAKE: Sure. I’ll take your word for it.

STRANGER: Did you say something, pal?

JAKE: No, sorry. Don’t mind me. Just talking to myself. [Quietly] Which way am I going?

NARRATOR: Exit the station and I’ll direct you.

[Going down stairs]

[Walking sound]

NARRATOR: Go right along this street. 

JAKE: No fancy street name to give me?

NARRATOR: I could, but you haven’t earned the right. You’ve shown little else but disdain for the predicament you are in here, so I will dispense with the colorful details and keep very specifically on point.

JAKE [sheepish]: Okay. I’m sorry. It’s been . . . A really long day or couple of days . . . or week. I don’t know how long it’s been since I had a chance to rest and sleep. Guess it’s making me irritable.

NARRATOR: Do you know why you are here?

JAKE: Well, I’m a time traveler of sorts, and normally I’m pretty good at going through doors and getting to where I want to go. At one point I could even create my own doors to where I needed to get to. But then I let my concentration drop, and now I’m just wandering aimlessly through time, hoping I’ll get back at some point.

NARRATOR: To this Ostium?

JAKE: Yes. And back to Monica.

NARRATOR: Someone you care for.

JAKE: Deeply.

NARRATOR: Interesting. One could describe Greater Boston as a city of people and the relationships between those people. Perhaps you have been brought here because this Monica might be here too.

JAKE: I suppose it’s possible. She might be looking for me. Trying to find me. 

NARRATOR: There are lots of people here on a similar quest: in search of one they care for.

JAKE: Isn’t that true of every city? Every town for that matter?

NARRATOR: Perhaps. But more so here. And the Red Line is part of the fabric that holds it all together.

JAKE: If you say so.

NARRATOR: I do. Take the next right, then a left.

JAKE: What about you? Do you have a story? Do you even have a name? Were you once . . . Living?

NARRATOR: Yes is the answer to all those questions. I will give you further details soon. And my name is Leon. Leon Stamatis. Take another left.

JAKE: Nice to meet you, Leon. Wherever you might be. I’m Jake. 

NARRATOR: I know you are Jake Fisher. I was granted that detail at least before you made your entrance into this world. And I am everywhere and in everything. 

JAKE: Cool. 

NARRATOR: Take the next right, then follow the road along until you reach it.

JAKE: Reach what.

NARRATOR: You’ll see.

[Break]

[Fair sounds]

JAKE [excited]: Holy shit. This is where you wanted to bring me? Do I get to go on any rides?

NARRATOR: Just one. 

JAKE [hopeful]: Is it the roller coaster? Please be the roller coaster? I haven’t done anything like this in forever!

NARRATOR: It is.

JAKE: Sweet. Do I need to get a special token, or can I just pay the attendant?

NARRATOR: You can pay the attendant. It will cost you a dollar.

JAKE: Which I do happen to have, randomly enough. I swear that wasn’t in my pocket earlier. Maybe left over from the tip I gave that pizza delivery woman.

NARRATOR: Cool story bro.

JAKE: Whatever.

JAKE: Here ya go. It’s just me. Thanks.

NARRATOR: Select the car at the very front of the line.

JAKE: I was planning to. Not many people riding the roller coaster it seems.

NARRATOR: There are reasons which I shall explain shortly.

JAKE: This is going to be such fun.

[Roller coaster sounds]

NARRATOR: I died on this roller coaster.

JAKE [shock]: What! Are you fucking serious?

NARRATOR: Yes. It’s what began this whole tale here in Greater Boston. I knew it was coming and I accepted my fate.

JAKE: You knew you were going to die? And you just let it happen . . . Could you have stopped it in some way?

NARRATOR: I suppose. But that was never part of the plan. I had scheduled it. It was meant to happen. End of story.

JAKE: Plans can change man. Don’t you have friends? Family?

NARRATOR: I do. And their lives have been irrevocably changed with my passing. 

JAKE: And that doesn’t make you feel . . . Well, like shit. For doing that to them?

NARRATOR: I . . . I never really considered it . . . Until it was too late. Until I was already dead. By then it was too late.

JAKE: You think!

NARRATOR: Right here is where it happened.

JAKE: And why the hell would you want to bring me here?

[Short pause]

NARRATOR: I . . . I haven’t been back, since it happened.

JAKE: Well, obviously. How would you?

NARRATOR: No, I suppose not. But now I have the ability to. No one else wanted to come back here. Wanted to do this again. Until you showed up.

JAKE [sarcastic]: Glad I could help facilitate your trip down memory lane.

NARRATOR: Thank you. It is appreciated.

JAKE: I was being sarcastic.

NARRATOR: I know, but my statement still stands.

[Short pause]

JAKE: Well, you sure took the fun out of riding a roller coaster. If I ever get the chance to do it again, I don’t know if I will or not. So what now?

NARRATOR: I don’t know. You did what I wanted. I have nothing more for you.

JAKE: Fine. Guess it’s time to move on. I’ll be looking for a door then. But first I need something from you.

NARRATOR: From. Me?

JAKE: Yeah. I need a trinket. A little symbol of this Greater Boston you speak so highly of. To take with me on my journey.

NARRATOR: For what purpose?

JAKE: It’s a long story and I don’t have the time.

NARRATOR: I thought you were a time traveler?

JAKE: Very funny. Any ideas?

NARRATOR: How about the item on the ground next to your right foot?

JAKE: What the hell is this?

NARRATOR: It’s a puzzle box with a special item inside. Crack the puzzle, get to the item. My brother made it.

JAKE: How did it get here?

NARRATOR: That’s a long story. And I don’t have the time. Will that suffice?

JAKE: Yeah. This’ll work fine. Thanks. Where’s the nearest door?

NARRATOR: Turn 90 degrees counter-clockwise. And look straight ahead.

JAKE: Thank you. I suppose it was a pleasure meeting you, Leon. See you in another life perhaps?

NARRATOR: Very unlikely. Safe travels Jake Fisher.

[Walking away]

NARRATOR: And so exits one Jake Fisher from this world of Greater Boston and the Red Line, moving on to another . . . Or perhaps reaching his final destination of Ostium.

MONICA:

[NARRATION]

I step through the portal and realize I’ve made a huge mistake. I could be anywhere. Literally fucking anywhere at this point. And any time . . . or I believe anywhen is the correct phrasing du jour. But my heart wanted to chase after Jake and save his ass . . . without actually thinking about the trouble my delectable ass would be in. And now here were are: the first stop on our whirlwind tour of the entirety of the cosmos, from the big bang to the big crunch, and everything in between. Around and around we go, and where we stop . . . nobody fucking knows. Or if we stop, for that matter.

I hear music . . . weird music. I’ve got lights of all colors and . . . neon? Okay, that’s a choice. An aesthetic, but I can dig it. I’m a fan of that whole . . . culture? Fad? Craze? I don’t know what the hell it was really, but it was groovy. Not so much the clothes. But the feel of everything. Kinda Blade Runner but way less fucking bleak. The ‘80s, no? 1980’s. Only they didn’t have space stations back then. And I know I’m in space right now because I can see a window, a so-called porthole on this space station, where I can see ships flying around and . . . robots I guess, droids, whatever . . . a whole bunch of activity going on out there. 

And I’m in a . . . bar? I can see a sign above a bunch of strangely shaped and colorful looking bottles – in neon of course – giving me the name of this fine establishment. 

At first I can’t believe my eyes. I literally rub them to clear them.

CAFE 80s.

As in that Cafe 80s? From Back to the Future 2? 

No. Fucking. Way.

And then I see I miss-read the sign. The logo, I swear, is just like the one from the movie starring one Michael J. Fox, only with a whole colorful neon Tron vibe, only it’s not 80’s . . . It’s CAFE 2680s.

O-kay. Guess I’m in the . . . 27th century? 

Cool. That’s fine. Totally . . . fine.

Good job I’m in a bar.

[Break]

MONICA:

[NARRATION]

I decide to lean into it. What other choice do I really have? I mosey on up to the bar. It’s pretty quiet in here right now. A couple tables occupied, a few people on stools. I choose one at the end of the bar hoping I can keep my distance from everything, a low profile. 

Within moments, a tall, broad, hirsute man with kind eyes and a warm smile is catching my attention.

BARK33P: 

[Ronald Regan Voice] 

Welcome to the CAFE 2680s, where it’s always morning on Pseudopolis Station, even in the after-noo-noo-noon. [tape winding noise] Would you like to see our happy hour specials? [mic echo] Mr. Gorbachev, tear down those prices!

[BEAT]

MONICA: 

Well, that’s too fucking much. I had a hunch with the sign, but now you’re even quoting shit from the movie!

BARK33P: 

[CLINT EASTWOOD DIRTY HARRY]

But can you guess the movie? Do ya feel lucky, punk?

MONICA: 

Are you kidding me? Back to the Future 2 of course. Though if it really is the 27th century . . . that flick sure has survived a long time.

BARK33P: 

[Loud Announcer voice, boxing bell rings] 

And we have a winner, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between. There is still hope for Pseudopolis! [Voice switches to tech-bro] With a higher percentage of population recognizing pop culture references the overall population’s quality of life will improve. This is the path to the future. This validates my reason for existing.

Thank you all for coming to my TED talk.

[Canned applause plays]

MONICA: 

TED talk? What the fuck is that?

BARK33P: 

Don’t worry about it, my good new friend. And you have earned yourself any item in this fine establishment on the house. Gratis maximus!

MONICA:
Okay . . . you’re not going make me have a . . . Pepsi free are you?

BARK33P: 

[GENUINE LAUGHTER]

 I think I might be falling in love with you . . .

MONICA: 

What?!

BARK33P: 

Damn, you heard that right? That was meant to be inside my head. Sometimes my inner voice gets confused with my actual voice.

MONICA: 

This isn’t getting any better.

BARK33P: 

Nothing like an adult beverage to make things better. World weary, stumbling into a bar, you look like you’re [Tom Petty voice, guitar sting] runnin’ down a drink.

MONICA:

[Exasperated] 

Okeydokey. Do you . . . [sigh] . . . you probably don’t, but I’m going to ask anyway. Do you by chance know how to make a . . . Long Island Iced Tea?

BARK33P: 

[Posh voice]

 For you madam, certainly! Jolly good, always fancy a spot of tea myself, y’know. 

[ROBOT STEPS WALKING AWAY]

MONICA:

[NARRATION]

Geez, thank god he’s gone. He was getting to be . . . a bit much. If I was Marty McFly, I’d say that things are getting pretty heavy. But I’m not, so I’m just gonna go with the flow. And that’s when a cute brunette dressed in a very colorful uniform perches herself on the stool beside me. She’s got two patches on the front of her uniform: one says Pizza from the Stars. Huh, now that seems really familiar. And the other says: “Ask Me About Carloni’s Pizza Cube.” Okay. That just sounds weird.

Oh, and now she’s looking at me with a big frown on her forehead.

MARISOL: 

Are you about hit me with some pickup line or you just gonna keep staring at my patches?

MONICA: 

Jesus, I’m really sorry. I just . . . I’m new here and I’ve never really heard of a . . . pizza cube before.

MARISOL: 

You should keep it that way. They’re not good.

MONICA: 

Then why are you advertising . . .

MARISOL: 

[Cutting her off]

Because it’s my job. 

MONICA: 

You deliver pizza?

MARISOL: 

Yep.

MONICA: 

For Carloni’s Pizza?

MARISOL: 

Yep. Oh, and he’s Irish by the way, which is a whole bag of weirdness you just don’t want to get involved with.

BARK33P: 

Marisol! How wonderful to have you back at the CAFE 2680’s. And what might I procure for you on this fine morning?

MARISOL: 

It’s the damn afternoon, BARK33P!

BARK33P: 

Ahh, but you know the familiar refrain of the CAFE 2680s . . .

MARISOL: 

[Cutting him off]

Just get me my usual. 

[Sarcastic] 

Pretty please.

BARK33P:

[English butler] 

Very well, very well.

MONICA:

His name is Barkeep?

MARISOL:

Almost, but with the letter E swapped out for threes. He was built back when every robot had to have some gimmick in their name to sell well.

BARK33P: 

Here is your . . . Long Island Iced Tea, as requested.

MARISOL: 

What is that? 

MONICA: 

It’s . . . a drink from where I come from. 

MARISOL: 

Does it have alcohol in it?

MONICA: 

Oh, most definitely.

MARISOL: 

Good. Barkeep, change my order. I’ll have what she’s having.

MONICA: 

And how exactly do I . . . drink from this . . .

BARK33P: 

[John Wayne voice] 

Not from around these here parts, are you, pilgrim?

MARISOL: 

Barkeep! Go. Get. My. Drink. Now!

BARK33P: 

[sotto vocce] 

Swift exit stage right.

MARISOL: 

Necesitas ayuda? You just push your thumb here and it pops the nozzle open and then . . . Salud!

MONICA: 

Oh right. Thank you. [Drinks.] Oh man.

MARISOL: 

Strong? Tiene fuerza?

MONICA: 

It sure does and that’s a good thing. And here’s our illustrious bartender.

[ROBOT STEPS] 

MARISOL: 

Not a word from you. Add it to my tab. 

So you’re not a local to Pseudopolis then?

MONICA: 

No. Definitely not. I’m from . . . Really far away.

MARISOL: 

Anywhere I’d know? I deliver to a lot places . . . to galaxies far, far away.

MONICA: 

I . . . don’t think so. Although Pizza from the Stars . . . that sounds really familiar to me. Is that another pizza delivery place you work for?

MARISOL: 

No. It’s this app that anyone literally anywhere can order pizza with and get it all paid for and then I deliver it to them, wherever they are in the cosmos.

MONICA: 

How do you  . . . get there if it’s like on the other side of the galaxy? 

Or . . . many light-years away?

MARISOL: 

Well, I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.

MONICA: 

What?!

MARISOL: 

Sorry, just a little joke. It’s a trade secret of Pizza from the Stars. Can’t tell you how it all works. Because even though I wouldn’t murder you, my bosses might. So I’m not gonna tell you.

MONICA: 

I’m a fan of that choice too. You know, I think I might’ve used the app once. A while ago. You happen to remember a delivery for a guy named Jake Fisher in a place called Ostium?

MARISOL: 

Do you realize how many pizzas I deliver in a single day?

MONICA: 

I know. That was fucking dumb of me. I’m sorry . . .

MARISOL: 

[Cutting her off] 

A damn lot. More than you can imagine. But I do actually remember that order. Jake Fisher. Ostium. Yep.

MONICA: 

Wow. That’s incredible. Did Jakey say something weird that stuck in your head? Was it because of the way he reacted when you said it was a Roanoke pizza? Damn, I wish I could’ve seen his face then.

MARISOL: 

He did kind of lose it for a bit when I told him that. But no, the reason I remember it so well is because that was my last delivery. I just got back from Ostium and after the whole experience and how far I had to travel, I needed to reward myself with a . . . what did you call it?

MONICA: 

Long Island Iced Tea.

MARISOL: 

Right. I’m not gonna remember that, but it’s good. Hell of a lot better than the pizza your boy Jake ordered, I’ll tell you that.

MONICA:

That’s the second pizza you’ve trash-talked. Is there any pizza you do like?

MARISOL:

Nope. Not a bit. Hate the stuff. Why?

MONICA: 

Because you’re . . . So you just delivered to Ostium?

MARISOL: 

Yeah. It was a real weird experience. I was banging on that door for eons until he answered the damn thing. I was about to kick the damn puerta down. Oh and get this, when I was about to leave, he gives me something he called a tip.

MONICA: 

How nice of him.

MARISOL: 

No it wasn’t! I can’t do anything with this! 

MONICA: 

Dollar bills. Yeah, I get that. Not much use for paper money in the 27th century. 

MARISOL: 

No kidding! I didn’t want to waste my breath telling him so I just got out of there.

MONICA: 

Is it okay if I have them?

MARISOL: 

Sure. I can’t do anything with then. Consider it payment for my new favorite drink: the Long Land Spiced Tea.

MONICA: 

Yeah, that’s not actually what it’s called.

MARISOL: 

I don’t care. And the more I drink it, the less I care.

MONICA: 

Okay, well, thank you for your time. I’ve got to get going actually. Got somewhere I need to be.

MARISOL: 

Really? Okay. Whatever. You gonna finish your drink?

MONICA: 

No. Don’t have time. You can have it, if you’d like.

MARISOL: 

[Excited] 

You don’t need to tell me twice! Hasta luego! See you in another life. 

MONICA: 

You have no idea. Tell Barkeep goodbye from me.

MARISOL: 

[Snorting sound]

MONICA:

[NARRATION]

I hop off the stool and walk away from the bar. As soon as I picked up the American money from my world, even if it’s from a time before mine, I feel myself being drawn. Feeling a need to leave this place I’m in. This world. I follow my sense, letting it lead me to a door I hadn’t noticed before. I look around, wondering if I should be more discrete, and then decide I don’t give a fuck. No one’s going to see me again, so what does it matter? 

I walk up to the door, stare at it. Waiting for it to open. Nothing happens. I feel my cheeks heat up and redden as the embarrassment spreads through my body. 

I see a panel and wave my hand in front of it. 

The door mercifully opens and I step through and leave the world of Pseudopolis Station forever.

KANE: On what I thought was going to be a relaxing Sunday afternoon was suddenly altered when Brutus Feels called me with some disturbing news.

FEELS: Lucifer, I’ve found a body. A body in the library.

KANE: Much like the murder mystery. I trust you will be instructing Hercule Poirot to investigate the scene?

FEELS [Exasperation]: What on earth are you talking about?

KANE: Is it alive?

FEELS: What?

KANE: The body, Feels. Is it alive or dead? It’s a simple question. Or perhaps it is something in between?

FEELS: God no. It’s alive. Definitely alive. 

KANE: So why then does this concern England’s finest paranormal investigators?

FEELS: Oh, yes, of course. Well, I searched the man’s pockets to see if I could find out who he is. And he had a lot of . . . Erm . . . Trinkets. 

KANE: What sort of trinkets?

FEELS: Erm . . . A small white rabbit, a yo-yo . . . A micro cassette . . . A small replica of the Space Needle.

KANE: Akin to the one in Seattle, Washington?

FEELS: Yes.

KANE: And do you have any idea of their significance?

FEELS: Oh no, not at all.

KANE: Again, I am forced to ask you: Why does it concern our . . . Concentration?

FEELS: Because each of those trinkets are giving off a strong ectoplasmic essence.

KANE: Feels, did you just make that up?

FEELS: Yes.

KANE: And what did you actually mean?

FEELS: They’re all giving off . . . For lack of a better word . . . Magic.

KANE [breath]: Very well. I’ll be right over. Which library?

[Beat]

FEELS: The British Library.

KANE: Ahh . . . .

[Break]

KANE: Feels is correct. Completely. From the moment I enter the small room, hidden within the deep depths of the world renowned institution known as the British Library, I can feel a powerful force being given off each of the trinkets Feels has laid out next to the prone man. I walk up to the body and examine him. He is calm. Breathing normally. His skin is warm, an acceptable temperature for a corporeal being. Nothing supernatural about him. But each of those trinkets is an enigma wrapped in a mystery. They exude a power and sense I have no felt before. All I know is that they are each very powerful. 

FEELS: Anything weird about him?

KANE: No. He appears perfectly normal. Alive and well. But the trinkets . . . Those are . . . What is the link between them all?

FEELS: I have no idea. My head hurts from thinking so hard about them, but I’ve got nothing.

KANE: Exactly. Because there is no link!

FEELS: Okay. So they’re completely random, and he’s  . . . Insane?

KANE: Possibly. We won’t know until he regains consciousness. But each trinket is an . . . Individual item. Unlike the other. From its own place. It’s own . . . World.

FEELS: World? How could you know that?

KANE: I’m not certain. But the sheer power being exuded from each item. I’ve never experienced anything like it. It’s as if . . . As if they’re talismans. Strong magical items. Possibly religious. Totemic.

FEELS: Powerful . . .

KANE: Yes. A level of power that can only come from another world. 

FEELS: So what’s our next move?

KANE: We wake him up.

[Break]

JAKE: Where the hell am I?

FEELS: It’s okay. You’re safe. Don’t worry.

JAKE: Am I in England?

KANE: Yes. The British Library in fact.

JAKE: The place where they keep a copy of the original Beowulf?

KANE: I believe so, yes.

JAKE: What am I doing here?

FEELS: That’s what we were hoping to learn from you. That’s why we woke you up.

JAKE: I . . . I was stepping through a door. I’m always stepping through a door it feels like. And it just all became too much. All of a sudden. I can’t remember the last time I slept. I keep going through worlds. Meeting complete strangers. Getting to know a little of their lives. Then I move on. After I get my little trinket. 

KANE: Ah yes, the trinkets.

JAKE: What are those doing out? Were you going through my pockets?

FEELS: Sorry. I was trying to find out who you are. 

[Pocketing sounds]

JAKE: Well, these are all very important to me. I can’t lose any of them.

KANE: Why? 

JAKE: Because I need every single one of them to get back.

FEELS: Back to where?

JAKE: Back to Ostium.

FEELS: And what’s in Ostium?

JAKE: It’s where this all started. And my hope is Monica will be there too.

FEELS: Who’s Monica?

JAKE: The love of my life. I have to find her. Otherwise there will be no point in making it back to Ostium.

[Break]

JAKE: So what is it you two do?

FEELS: Oh, we’re paranormal investigators.

JAKE: Paranormal . . . Seriously?

FEELS: Yes. Ghosts. Ghouls. Succubi. You name it, we’ve had to deal with it in some fashion or other.

JAKE: So you’re basically . . . Holmes and Watson, except with the supernatural.

[KANE and FEELS simultaneously]

KANE: Preposterous.

FEELS: Exactly.

[Awkward pause]

FEELS: Though I think sometimes it gets a little murky with who’s Holmes and who’s Watson.

JAKE: That’s kinda cool. I like that. Shake up the paradigm a little. 

KANE: Could we move on please. Why are those trinkets of yours so powerful?

JAKE: They’re powerful? You can tell?

KANE: Yes. They exude an . . . Ectoplasmic essence . . .

FEELS: But . . .

JAKE [Cutting off Feels]: Really? You can tell that? I guess you guys are the real deal. I always figured there was something special about them. I chose each one carefully. I could sense it was the right item. The right talisman to take along. Guess that explains it then. 

KANE: Could you possibly elaborate?

JAKE: I’m not sure. My thinking is each piece needs to be brought together back in Ostium and placed on the map table. And then whatever needs to happen to set things right will happen.

FEELS: I don’t know if that really explains anything . . .

JAKE: But I don’t know if it’s enough. Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s not. It’s why I need to find Monica. To bring her back to Ostium too. I have a feeling she’s got her own trinkets with her. And when we put them all together, then something will happen. At least that’s my plan.

FEELS: I still don’t really know what you’re talking about. At all.

JAKE: Well, my time draws nigh. I will have to be moving along soon.

KANE: Passing through your next door.

JAKE: Yes.

KANE: And I suppose you will need a trinket from our world?

JAKE: Yes.

FEELS: There’s lot of stuff in this room. Books obviously . . .

KANE: Brutus! Every item in this room is extremely valuable. Priceless!

JAKE: It’s okay. It’s not a book. I can tell. It’s . . . That right there. Grab that for me, will you.

FEELS: You mean this? What is it.

JAKE: The next trinket.

KANE: I will have you know that is a piece of the Sutton Hoo collection. Believed to be part of a belt buckle. Solid gold no less. And as I already mentioned: priceless!

JAKE: Sutton Hoo. I think I’ve heard of that. Don’t they have that gnarly mask? But I thought it was all in the British Museum?

KANE: Some items have been borrowed for study. Also, that particular item is not exuding any power like the other trinkets. Are you sure it is the correct one?

JAKE: Yeah. Pretty sure. Pass it along.

FEELS: Right. Here you go.

JAKE. Thank you. Yep it’s the right one.

KANE: Astonishing. Now I see the power coming off it. Once you touched it. You are a part of this, just as all those items are.

JAKE: Yeah. Looks that way. Thanks for your help, gents. Got to be moving on now. Good luck with the . . . Paranormal investigating. See you in another life.

[Door opening]

FEELS: Bye.

[Door closing]

FEELS: Well, that was odd, wasn’t it?

KANE: A veritable conundrum to be sure. Let’s get moving then, shall we?

FEELS: Why is that?

KANE: Because I don’t wish to be here when the stewards of the Library discover a prized piece of British history has gone missing.

FEELS: Right. Let’s use the door we didn’t come in though.

KANE: Good thinking.

[Door opening, closing.]

JACK (NARRATOR):

I’m not one to really care about what other people think, and definitely not about me. But I am starting to wonder if they might think I’m crazy, or at least a little bit weird. Because I’ve been doing this one thing over and over, and the locals are definitely starting to notice. 

It’s the Welcome to Superstition sign. Well, more accurately, it’s the sentence beneath it: WHERE ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN. I keep coming out here to read those words because so much has happened. And it all started with a key to a mysterious motel room, and then a lot of driving. A fucking lot of driving.

And then the whole Kate Millay thing and the cops saying she wasn’t really missing, but she really was, and then I found her, and got stabbed, and she saved my ass, and then Izzy got us out alive, and then before I knew it the Jack St. James Detective Agency wasn’t just a jumble of words that came out of my mouth but a real place. A real thing. And I’m, like, a real private detective now, I guess. I mean, Izzy got me the hat. So I’m legit now.

And it’s all so fucking unbelievable.

So that’s why I keep driving out to that town sign to read those words.

Also… because of what happened to me before I even took my first case at the Jack St. James Detective Agency. 

Weird things happen in Superstition. Weird things that aren’t possible elsewhere. The walls between believable and unbelievable are thin here, and sometimes there’s crossover, whether you admit it’s happening or not. 

There are those that deny it, and try to keep on having normal lives.

There are those that admit this shit is happening and try to deal with it.

And then there are those that cause it. Like Simon Millay, who didn’t really understand what he was doing, but thought he was doing it for the right reasons, and then something crossed over from the other side. 

[Monster sound effects from Season 1]

Simon made that happen. 

And sometimes things just cross over.

Like Monica did.

[Break]

MONICA:

Okay. This is a new one. I’m in a town called Superstition. In the blistering sate of Arizona. It looks to be around early twenty-first century. But the place has a feel about it. There’s history here. Like centuries of it. It’s worn into the fabric of this town. It’s buildings just . . . Exude it. Time’s taken it’s toll here, but there’s still a lot of life. Plenty of fucking vitality.

I can definitely see how someone could grow to like it here.

There’s a harshness, but also charm.

So what can I get out of it? What does the quaint town of Superstition have to offer Monica Chase?

The name is definitely weird, even for a town in the States. But it’s definitely making me curious. What’s behind it all? Is it a cool name because some white dude way back when thought it would be a good name, or did it get this name because weird shit happens here?

With how I’ve described the town already, my money’s on the latter.

What with how . . .

Wait! What the fuck was that? 

Damn, it’s gone now. 

Oh, there’s another one.

Is that . . . A fucking ghost?

Shit! It is! And it just looked at me. And kept on moving. Okay, good. That’s good. I’m still not over all that banshee business, so keep going incorporeal spirits. Nothing to see here.

What is up with Superstition?

Oh shit. That gal saw me. Did I say the word ghost out loud? I don’t remember. Maybe?

And now she’s coming over . . . Just fucking fabulous.

[Break]

JACK: Are you . . . Okay?

MONICA [terse]: Yeah. Why?

JACK: You just yelled “a fucking ghost.”

MONICA: Ahh. Okay. I can see why you thought I might need help.

JACK [sincere]: Because you saw a ghost.

MONICA: I did . . . Did . . . Did I? [Fast] I’m not sure. I saw something. I guess it could’ve been a ghost. Or maybe just a figment of my imagination. Or  . . . Fog?

JACK: It’s just after noon. This is Arizona. That’s not how fog works. You saw a ghost, didn’t you?

MONICA [acceptance]: Yeah, I guess I did. It looked right at me and then kept on going down the street. Which was fine by me. So you . . . Believe me?

JACK: Damn right I do. This is Superstition after all. This is the one place where weird can be an everyday thing.

MONICA: I can think of another place, actually.

JACK: You’re not from here, are you? I haven’t seen you around.This isn’t a very big town and new faces are kind of hard to miss. Especially yours.

MONICA: You got me. I’m from . . . Far away from here.

JACK: Far? How far is far?

MONICA: You know what, I’m gonna level with you. You believe in ghosts. You say Superstition is weird, so I’m guessing you’ve seen some serious shit. Shit that can’t be easily explained. So I’m going to give you my back story.

 JACK: (CAN’T BE THE WEIRDEST THING SHE’S HEARD TODAY) Hit me.

MONICA: I’m a time traveler of sorts, passing through doors to other worlds in space and time. I’m trying to find . . . My guy, Jake Fisher. He’s also a time traveler but screwed up and now he’s kinda lost in time traveling from place to place. And I’m trying to find him, so we can get back to the place where this all started. A strange town called Ostium.

JACK: That’s what you meant by “another place.”

MONICA: Yep.

JACK: Okay . . . Well, the good news is, it’s after noon. Wanna get a drink?

MONICA: That sounds fucking fantastic.

[Break]

MONICA:

We start with tequila shots, which I was surprised at for like half a second. Then we clinked glasses and down the hatch it went, and man that was some good shit. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a shot, but it’s been too fucking long that’s for sure. I join Jack in a round of crown and cokes after, though I also take a look at the menu and order an enchilada. All this alcohol and the little amount of food I’ve had since this wild ride started means I’ll have trouble even finding the next Ostium door, let alone going through it.

I know I’m feeling the buzz, because I feed her a really shitty line:

MONICA: So do you prefer [ice clinking sound], or are you also partial to . . . A Jack and coke?

JACK: (A COME-ON AS A JOKE, THAT TURNS INTO GENTLE TEASING) I’m really not picky. Take what I can get, usually. In fact, some people have said I’m… experimental. But, I’m assuming you’re just talking about how I like to drink my booze, right? 

MONICA: Jesus, I really need to eat something. My mouth is just running itself. Sorry Jack. That was fucking terrible. How about we talk more about Superstition? How did you end up in this . . . Weird fucking town?

JACK: A fifteen-year-old scavenger hunt clue led me here, and then my private eye smarts helped me find that girl.

Jack points to a poster pinned to a board behind the bar. It’s then I really take it in: the whole board is full of missing persons posters. What the fuck is with this town? The poster that Jack is pointing to is at one end and separate from the rest. The girl is Kate Millay. Above the poster someone has written FOUND in big letters with permanent marker.

MONICA: Judging by the rest of the posters, you did something special?

JACK [laughing]: Yeah. I’m kind of the town hero right now [snork]. All it cost me was a knife to the stomach.

MONICA: Ouch.

JACK: I survived. 

IZZY: And you have your own detective agency because of it.

This comes from the person behind the bar who’s watching Jack with a smile on her face, while Jack has her own smirk and look in her eye.

Are these two dating?

MONICA: I take it you know each other.

IZZY: Jack is one of my regulars. 

JACK: (I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I) You’re regular. Uh.

IZZY: I can’t get rid of her. JACK: [laughing, snork]

MONICA: So I really saw a ghost earlier?

IZZY: Aaaaand that’s my cue. I’m on the clock. I’ll leave you guys to your… ghost hunting.

JACK: That’s Izzy. She’s, um. She’s busy!  And yes. That was a ghost. Or something of the supernatural persuasion.

MONICA: So that sort of thing happens a lot in this town?

JACK: Sorta. There’s a lot of . . . Unexplained stuff that goes on here. Why, is anyone’s guess. Maybe they’re the ghosts of the people that once lived here? That’s been known to happen. Or – you ended up here! Are they maybe something that’s slipped through from another realm?

MONICA: Could they be from other worlds? Possibly from somewhere or somewhen I’ve visited?

JACK: If you find out, let me know. I’m just trying to help the living. My focus is on helping the living of Superstition. My job is to find those people, I guess.

Jack’s pointing at all the missing posters.

JACK: In Superstition, people disappear, sometimes for a short time, sometimes for a long time. And sometimes they don’t come back. I’m trying to change that and help those that need help.

MONICA: Which is . . . Fucking awesome. And that’s not just the booze talking. I’m being serious here. The fact that there’s someone like you doing good.

JACK: Trying to at least.

MONICA: No. You are. It gives me hope, which I can really use right now. If I’m ever going to make it back to Ostium. And find Jake. But after meeting you, it’s given me confidence that I will. 

JACK: Thank you. You know,you got some chutzpah, Monica. 

MONICA: I . . . think that’s a compliment? It’s too bad I have to go. I’m not sure about living in Superstition, but I’m sure we would have some good times.

JACK: Yeah, we would. You have time to eat, right?

MONICA: Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere before I destroy that enchilada.

JACK: And another drink?

MONICA: Why not. One for the road.

[Break]

JACK:

We have that last drink. And Monica does destroy her meal. That girl can sure eat. But after hearing her story, it sounds like it’s been a while since she ate. She says she needs a memento from this world she’s visiting. My world. Something small but significant. I can’t think of anything, and then I look at the counter. I hand her a Lady in White bar coaster. It’s a creepy ghost in a white dress, holding a tankard of ale or lager or something. The name of the bar curves around her head. Beneath her it says: Superstition, AZ. 

MONICA: That’s perfect. Thank you. Time to go through another door.

JACK: We say our goodbyes and I follow her over to the bar’s nasty back bathroom. I’m wondering what the hell she’s up to,  but no, it’s the door she’s chosen. She says she knows it’s this one. Then she gives me a quick hug, which I gladly return.

Not looking back, she opens the door and steps through. 

It closes.

For just a second I see something on the other side that definitely wasn’t a restroom.

I think I need another drink.

Before I can start to feel sad about losing Monica I see Izzy looking at me across the room in her certain way.

I can’t help smiling as I walk back over to the bar. 

INT. UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY [JASON’S CELL] – NIGHT
SFX: Footsteps can be heard coming down the hall as Jason sits up in his creaking, old bed. A few moments after, the footsteps stop as Alexander stands outside of his cell.
JASON Finally. Took you long enough.
ALEXANDER I had some other things to take care of.
JASON (sigh) Not like it actually matters. Venezia doesn’t much care for punctual anyway.
ALEXANDER (laughs) Punctual? I doubt the word’s in her vocabulary.
JASON (chuckle) Yeah, agreed. (beat) Alright. We may as well get the show on the road then, huh?
ALEXANDER (amused) Someone seems pretty gung-ho about seeing a particular doctor.
JASON Well, when your only interaction with people for a few weeks has been non-existent, other than “I’m good” responses, you start to appreciate conversations more.
ALEXANDER Ah, yeah. Guess I never thought about it that way.
JASON Especially since you’re not subjected to stay cooped up in a room for 23 hours of the day.
ALEXANDER Doesn’t mean I’m enjoying myself.
JASON I don’t think anyone is really enjoying themselves here. (beat) Well, expect for Venezia.
ALEXANDER Something’s not right with her. (beat) Anyway.
SFX: Alexander takes out his keys and opens the door to Jason’s cell.
JASON Alright then.
ALEXANDER Let’s get going then.
JASON Lead the way.
ALEXANDER (slight chuckle) Nice try, but go in front. You know how we do things here.
JASON (sigh) Unfortunately.
SFX: Jason starts walking, with Alexander right behind him.
FADE TO:
EXT/INT UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY [VENEZIA’S OFFICE] – NIGHT
SFX: The pair stop walking.
ALEXANDER Well, here we are.
JASON (sigh) That we are.ALEXANDER If you’re not in the mood to be berated, we can get her to reschedul–
JASON No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. (beat) Just… it’s been a while is all. Before the lockdown, I was ready to play her games, but now… I don’t know.
ALEXANDER Well, I’ve never had a long enough conversation to be “played” with, but doesn’t sound fun.
JASON You’re right, it’s not, but it’s required.
ALEXANDER That it is.JASON (sigh)
SFX: Jason walks to the door and opens it, entering Venezia’s office. The door slams shut behind him.
VENEZIA Not this one.
SFX: Venezia throws something, crashes hard.
VENEZIA (CONT’D) Or this one.
SFX: Venezia throws another thing at the wall.
JASON Uhh. Dr. Venezia?
VENEZIA (absentmindedly) Huh? Who is it?
JASON It’s me, Jason. Remember, we had an appointment.VENEZIA Oh, right right right. That’s today, huh?
SFX: She stops what she’s doing and opens a drawer, grabbing a bundle of paper. After flicking through them for a few moments, she stops and drops them on her desk.
VENEZIA (CONT’D) It seems that I’ve allowed time to slip by. It’s already Wednesday. (mumble) Could’ve swore it was Sunday.
JASON Have you left your room since the lockdown?
VENEZIA (laughs) Of course not! What reason would there be for that?
JASON I don’t know, talking to people? Seeing the sun?
VENEZIA Pish posh. I don’t need to talk to uninteresting people. I only care for those with stories, but not just any story. (beat) They must chill me to the bone, make me weep tears of joy or sadness or–
SFX: The door opens.
JAKE What about ones that are just outright strange?
VENEZIA My my my. Now, who are you?
JAKE Jake Fisher.VENEZIA And what is Jake Fisher doing in my office?
JAKE Ummm. Yeah, about that… I don’t know how to explain it.
VENEZIA Well, you’re already here so try and dazzle me. (beat)
(MORE)
Otherwise, I’ll need to call the guards. Hmmm. That’d be fun in its own way as well. Well, the choice is yours.
JASON I’d do what she says. From your clothes I’d say you’re not a prisoner, a guard or a worker.
JAKE That’s correct.
JASON So what do you think’ll happen if she calls the guards on some random ass person? I couldn’t see it going well.(beat) It is a supermax prison.
JAKE (surprised) T-this is a… prison? (beat) So you’re a…
JASON A prisoner, yes.
VENEZIA Interesting. There’s no logical way for you to not know what this place is. (beat) Actually, there’s no reason for you to be in this wing at all. Hmmmmm. Interesting indeed.
JAKE Alright, so… I can travel through doors.
JASON (slight chuckle) Obviously. Anyone’s able to do that.
JAKE Okay, I’m not stupid. Obviously people can walk through doors, but this is a bit… different.
VENEZIA VENEZIA (CONT’D) (CONT’D)
VENEZIA Hmmm. Different how? Am I correct in assuming that’s what led you here?
JAKE You are indeed correct. So have you two heard of Doctor Who?
JASON Oh yeah, that old British show?
JAKE Old? No, it’s quite new actually. Recently, renewed for a new season.
JASON Really? I think it’s quite old, but I don’t keep up with shows from the UK. My husband used to, which is the only reason why I’ve seen it.
JAKE Great! Regardless, this’ll make my explanation easier. (beat) So I can do what he does.
VENEZIA What who does?
JAKE Yes, what who does. Dr. Who obviously. (beat) Sometimes, when I open a door, I’ll “jump” to someplace or time.
VENEZIA And this is what’s happened now?
JAKE Yes, I gotta find my way back home.
VENEZIA Before you do find a way home, mind telling me a few stories of your space or time?
JAKE Wait… you two believe me?
JASON I don’t know if I’d say believe, but there’s nothing else that can explain it at the moment.
VENEZIA So will you weave me your tale?
JAKE I-I guess? I mean what do you want to know?
VENEZIA Hmmmm. The most surreal experience you’ve had with this power of yours.
JAKE Hmmm.
SFX: Silence for a beat.
JAKE (CONT’D) Okay. I think I got one, but I’ll also need this guy to tell me something as well.
JASON The name’s Jason. Jason Cawfield.
VENEZIA Oh, how rude of me. (beat) Dr. Stella Venezia at your service.
JAKE Nice to meet you both, but before I tell you this, I want to ask Jason some questions.
JASON What if I don’t answer?
JAKE Then I’ll find my trinket and be on my way.
VENEZIA Trinket? (beat) What is the significance of it?
SFX: Silence for a beat.
JASON (sigh) Just ask your question.
JAKE Jason, what are you in here for? What did you do?
JASON I’m here for a crime I didn’t commit.
JAKE And that crime being?
JASON Ummm. Bi–VENEZIA International bio-terrorism.
JAKE O-oh, I see….
SFX: Silence for a few beats.
JASON I’ve already said that I didn’t do it, but you’re free to believe whatever you want.
JAKE I suppose that’s true. Alright then. I’ll hold up my end.
VENEZIA Fantastic.JAKE Most surreal experience. (beat) So–
VENEZIA One moment.
SFX: Venezia grabs her chair and a notebook as she attentively waits.
JASON Don’t mind her. She’s always like that.
JAKE Oh, o-okay. Anyway, it was one of the first times that I learned about this… “power.” (beat) I wasn’t certain where I actually was, but that was also due to me standing by the door for a little while.
SFX: Venezia is scribbling down notes.
VENEZIA And after entering this unknown place, why did you not go off exploring? If it was me, I’d have been jumping for joy.
JASON I think more sane people would be cautious.
VENEZIA Sane? HA! Since when has being sane ever brought about change? (beat) I’ll tell you, never. It’s always the “crazy” one. The outside of the box thinker. It’s never the sane one.
JASON My point still stands. In regards to your own safety, many would be cautious and take more care.
JAKE (fake cough) Ahem.
VENEZIA Apologies. Please do continue.
JAKE So as I was saying: I stood by the doorway, entranced by the site before me as well as the fact that a random numbered door brought me there.
SFX: Venezia continues to scribble.
VENEZIA Numbered? Why and for what purpose was it numbered?
JAKE The numbers indicate the order that you must enter the doors in. (beat) However, after entering a number, you’re able to go to the next one and all the ones before it are still available.
SFX: Venezia is hastily writing down notes in her notebook.
JASON So where’d you end up? Where’d that numbered door take you?
JAKE Even if I tell you, I don’t think you’ll beli–
VENEZIA No no no. That will simply not do. (beat) You must tell us. (intimidating) No matter how ridiculous, or insane it sounds. Do you understand me?
JAKE Y-yes ma’am!JASON (sigh) She’s at it again.
JAKE So I was playing a game; Geoguesser. Ever heard of it?
JASON Nope. Never. Dr. Venezia?
VENEZIA Is that where any individual can place an item of their choosing in a location and have others seek it out?
JAKE (excited) Yes! That’s exactly it.
JASON I’m surprised. I didn’t take you for the recreational type.
VENEZIA Well, let’s just say I’ve hid a few interesting items here and there in my day.
JASON Yeah… I’d rather not know.
JAKE Anyway, that’s what I did during my free time. I’d play that game. (beat) After playing for a while, I stumbled upon a town called Ostium, which had a population of zero.
SFX: Venezia is scribbling notes.
JASON Zero? So an abandoned town?
JAKE That or just wasn’t updated, but that’s not the strangest thing.
VENEZIA That being the numbered doors you previously mentioned, correct?
JAKE Correct. And once I entered one of the first few doors, I was in North Carolina.
JASON Okay? Is that all…?
JAKE In the 1500s.
VENEZIA Hmmm. If my memory serves me right, that was around the time that town went missing. Roake? Roanke?
JAKE Roanoke.
VENEZIA That’s the one. (beat) (intrigued) Wait. So you’re saying that you’ve seen the lost town?
JAKE I have.
SFX: Venezia is frantically writing down notes.
JAKE (CONT’D) I couldn’t believe my eyes… me in a lost town that shouldn’t exist anymore. (beat) I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, but there I was.
JASON So what’d you do? What’d you find?
JAKE I found…
SFX: There’s a hard knock at the door.
JASON Dr. Venezia did you schedule two overlapping meetings?
VENEZIA (sigh) No. I may be a scatterbrain most of the time, but I’d never, ever schedule two conflicting meetings. (beat) If I did, I’d never be able to give my full attention to anyone.
JAKE Okay… then who’s at the door?
VENEZIA Beats me, but I think it’d do you good to leave.
JAKE Leave? Don’t you want to know what happened in Roanoke?
VENEZIA (slight laugh) Trust me. I’d love to. Honestly, I’m tempted to lock you in this room until you tell me all of your stories.
JASON That doesn’t sound insane at all.
VENEZIA Oh hush you. I said that I’d like to. Not that I was going to. Two entirely different things.
JASON Uh huh. Sure.
SFX: Two loud bangs on the door.
JAKE (nervous) O-okay. I’ve gotta go, but I can’t.
JASON And why not? Just go open that door and… vanish?
JAKE That’s what I’m saying. I can’t do that… at least not without a token.
VENEZIA Token? What does it look like?
SFX: Someone tries to angrily open the door, but it’s locked.
JAKE (nervous) T-they aren’t all the same, but it’s always something to represent the world that I was in.
JASON (thinking) Something to represent the world…ah!JAKE What?
SFX: Jason rummages through his pockets.
JASON Here.
SFX: He hands Jake a T.INT patch.
JAKE What’s this?JASON This is a patch from the organization I’m apart of. Tinkers International or T.INT.
JAKE Oh! The arms make an “O” in the middle for Ostium! (beat) This has to be it.
JASON Wait really?JAKE Yeah, look.
SFX: Jake puts out his hand to show Jason.
JASON Yeah, the patches don’t have a white “O” in the middle. Strange.
JAKE Yeah, okay. That confirms it then.
VENEZIA I’d say you take that and be off then, no?
JAKE Yes, thank you.
VENEZIA No, thank you. It was a fun story, albeit an incomplete one.
SFX: Someone bangs on the door again.
JAKE I apologize for the story being cut short, but thanks for your help.
JASON Make it back home safe.
JAKE I’ll do my best.
SFX: Jake quickly runs to the door and opens the door, vanishing as someone else stumbles into the room.
VENEZIA (amused) Oh hello director. You do not look pleased. What ever could be the matter?
End of the episode

MONICA: The apartment looks like it was mid-century, the kind that was once meant for a large family but now has been split up into multiple apartments by a landlord who needs to stretch his investment. It’s a pretty old rowhouse, but fairly well cared for. I’m in a hot, wet place, so I’m guessing by the looks of things, it’s a city in the US, probably in the south-east region, what with the heat and extreme humidity. So . . . just fucking great. Not my ideal. There are other mismatched apartments and houses, up and down the street. But I arrived here. Through a door . . . a fucking rip through reality and it put me on the curb. Right in front of this house. Is there a reason for that? Fuck knows. But I’m here and this is where it wants me to go, whatever it is. I’m looking for Jake. That’s my goal. That’s what I’m gonna do. I know my track record hasn’t been exactly great with finding the people I want to through the doors of Ostium, but hey guess what, I found Steve in the end. Sort of. So . . . one for one. 

And my chances for finding Jake look . . . [sarcastic/uncertain] Good?

I mean, he’s . . . somewhere. And yes, that somewhere can be literally anywhere and anywhen . . .

Okay, time to stop feeling shitty.

As I take two steps towards the small steps and gate it hits me . . . it’s physical . . . it’s invisible . . .it’s . . . fucking strong. I can’t see anything, just your normal looking apartment building. But I can feel it, sort of. I can sense it. There, coming from the steps down to the basement apartment. I can sense . . . Them. More than one. Like levels of obstruction, holding me back. They’re . . . Oh shit, they’re wards. This house is under protection . . . From what? And who’s inside? A witch? A wizard? A warlock? Some other magical being that I know nothing about?

To say I’m out of my depth here is a gross overstatement. 

But let’s take a big fucking step back for a moment . . . Mentally and physically. Ahh, that’s better, less pressure from the wards. So . . . How do I know they’re wards exactly? Where did this insight come from? Last time I checked I didn’t know thing one about  . . . Magical thingies. Case in point. And yet some-fucking-how I know wards are protecting this place.

O . . . Kay. Maybe it’s something to do with going through these doors, on my own. Jake said he was changed after the blackness . . . What? Took him? Enveloped him? He survived, came out the other side, and was stronger for it. Maybe I’m going through a similar thing. I sure am speculating and pontificating like him. 

So how does one get past or through a ward? 

Let’s find out . . . I guess.

[Short break]

I move forward again and immediately feel the pressure. I walk slower but don’t stop. I’m just forcing myself against them. It’s like walking underwater, and the water’s like “heavy” water. I start to feel pricks on my skin, like tiny needles, or micro shocks. It’s very uncomfortable, and unsettling, but . . . bearable. Then things start to heat up. More than before. The tiny needles have been sitting on hot coals. I start grimacing, then moaning a little. 

Then just like that they’re all gone. I’m pain free and walking normally again.

I guess I . . . Broke through?

I walk down the steps and make it to the door. A metal figurine of a woman with the lower half of a snake is nailed above the door, a small black felt bag hanging from her hands. The door is also ajar. Okay. Didn’t expect that. 

I let my heart get closer to its usual beat, take a breath, and push open the door.

With my first step inside I hear a confident woman’s voice say: 

KALILA: Hello Monica, I’ve been expecting you.

[Break]

[KALILA:]

KALILA: February 16th. [TENTATIVELY 02/16/20] Moon is full. Sun is in Gemini.

The visitor’s name is Monica. I can’t really say client because she’s not one. Although she did offer to pay me for my services after we were done . . . Until she discovered she didn’t have any money. She was very apologetic about it. I didn’t give her a hard time . . . her arrival came under unusual circumstances. Last night I had a dream that today I would be visited by a stranger who would need my help. I know better than to ignore prophetic dreams. They come few and far inbetween, but it’s usually best practice to pay attention. The only word I heard in the dream was Monica. My day began auspiciously: the alarm failed to wake me up at the set time; the shower had lukewarm water; my breakfast tipped over onto the floor; and when I went to take my first sip of tea, the handle came off the mug. Fortunately, I didn’t get burned, but I did have to clean up and make a whole new cup of tea and a bowl of cereal. I should’ve been annoyed, but instead I recognized these signs for what they were: something big was disrupting the energy around me. I needed to be ready for it, or rather for this Monica person. 

I felt the tension in the air when she arrived. I felt her making contact with the wards, then forcing her way through them. I have had those wards for a long time and each week I re-strengthen them, making sure they give me enough information about what or who comes in contact with them. She didn’t break them exactly, as anything attacking would; she was merely able to . . . Pass through without giving the required information. At least she didn’t seem dangerous. Okay, I was curious.  

When she poked her head through the door I said . . .

[Break]

KALILA: Hello Monica, I’ve been expecting you.

MONICA: You . . . Er . . . You have?

KALILA: Yup. Please come in.

MONICA: Thank you. I . . . Are you here to help me? Is that why I’m . . . In your lovely home.

KALILA: You don’t sound certain.

MONICA: Oh, I barely have a fucking clue.

KALILA: No problem. We’ll figure it out together; let’s get started. Please take a seat . . . Here. Would you like some tea?

MONICA: That sounds . . . Heavenly.

KALILA: I’ll be right back. 

[Short break]

MONICA: This is fucking delicious. What is it?

KALILA: Oolong.

MONICA: I’ve got to get me some. Sorry, do you mind the swearing.

KALILA: Nah, it’s fine. However you need to express yourself. Feel free.

MONICA: Thank you.

KALILA: Now: why are you here?

MONICA: I thought you were going to tell me that . . . With the tarot cards.

KALILA: If you think that’s why you’re here . . . Are you familiar with tarot?  Have you had a reading before?

MONICA: No and no.

KALILA: Very well. Do you have any idea why you’ve shown up on my doorstep? What has brought you here?

MONICA: Well . . . I’ve been traveling through doors. Going from place to place and . . . Time to time. I’m searching for someone. [Breath] I’m looking for Jake Fisher. He’s lost. And I need to find him.

KALILA: A traveler, huh? Interesting. This is something I can work with. I’m going to do a three card reading . . .

MONICA: So . . . Where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m going?

KALILA: If . . . If that’s what you want, it can be that yes. Do you want that?

MONICA [thinking for a moment]: Yes. That’s what I’d like. If that’s okay?

KALILA: Of course. So . . . First card is Six of Cups. You recently found something or someone you’ve spent a long time looking for. You were reunited with this person, and possibly others. Also a return to a familiar place. A home of sorts. Not necessarily your true home, but a place you are comfortable and familiar with. 

MONICA: Yes. I found Steve. My boy. And Jake. And we were all back together in the Ostium Network. But then something happened. Something . . . Fucking bad. We had to stop someone . . . Something from attacking us. From attacking the place we were in. It was a hard fight. And at the end of it . . . After we’d won, we were all exhausted. This is why Jake didn’t arrive right behind me. He . . . Fuck, I don’t know. Let his mind wonder maybe? Lost his focus for a second. Succumbed to his tiredness. And he went through a door and it didn’t take him to where it should. Back to us. It took him somewhere else. Possibly .  . . Probably very far away. In time and space. And now . . .

KALILA: Yes, the next card. The Chariot, reversed. You feel lost. Without direction. You know how to get from place to place. Through the doors. But you don’t know where you’re going. And you don’t know if it’s helping. Or if you’re just putting yourself in a deeper hole.

MONICA: Yes. I feel . . . Lost. Lost is the right word. Each time I go through another door there’s a part of me wishing Jake is going to be on the other side. But it’s only a small part of me. Most of me assumes he won’t be and I’m gonna be in some other strange and new place. 

KALILA: I see. So let’s see where you believe you need to be then. The . . . uh. I . . . what the . . .

MONICA: What? What is it?

KALILA [concerned]: I’ve . . . I’ve never seen this card before.

MONICA: You never drawn it in a reading?

KALILA: No. I mean I’ve literally never seen this card before. It’s not part of my tarot deck, even though the style is the same. This . . . This doesn’t feel right.

MONICA: Can I see it?

KALILA: I don’t want to touch it.

[Chair moving sound]

MONICA: Goddamn. It’s . . . It’s a big black O. For Ostium. It’s gotta be. And inside is . . . Is that the map table? Yeah. Somehow it is. Why is it that?

KALILA [confused]: Don’t ask me.

MONICA: It’s Ostium. The reach of Ostium. It’s made it to here. In this time and place, somehow. [Shock] Unbelievable. But why the map table? Unless . . . Unless . . . I need to get the talismans. The little trinkets for the map table. 

KALILA: I don’t know what you’re talking about . . .

MONICA: It’s gotta be that. That’s how I can get back on track. How I can find Jake, and how I can get us back to Ostium. Just like we did before. It would be fucking unbelievable if it didn’t all make sense.

KALILA [peeved]: Tell me about it.

MONICA: Thank you. Thank you . . . Gosh, I’m so sorry. I never asked for your name.

KALILA: Kalila Stormfire.

MONICA: That . . . is a fucking amazing name. Thank you Kalila, so much for your help. This is what you do, isn’t it? Helping others in this way.

KALILA: Yes. And sometimes it pays the rent and provides food.

MONICA: Fuck! You’re right. I need to pay you for your help. Let me . . . [rustling] Shit, I’m sorry. I haven’t got a dollar on me. I feel really bad.

KALILA: It’s . . . It’s okay, Monica. Honestly, this has been an . . . Educational experience, for both of us I’m sure. And one I’m not soon to forget. 

MONICA: Can I . . . Can I ask one more favor?

KALILA: Certainly. If I can grant it.

MONICA: Can I take this card with me? I think . . . I think it’s the talisman to be taken from this place.

KALILA: Yes. Yes, please do. It clearly isn’t meant to be with me, in my deck.

MONICA: Thank you. And I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll be leaving now.

KALILA: Monica?

MONICA: Yes?

KALILA: Be careful . . . I can see you love him. And sometimes love can easily cloud the mind and stray you from your path. Just: be careful.

MONICA: Thank you, Kalila. I’ll . . . I’ll never forget you.

KALILA: I wish you well, traveler.

[Footsteps, door opening, door closing]

[Break]

KALILA: A very strange case, even for me. I’ve heard of interdimensional travelers before, but they are, like, super rare. This Ostium place…it’s probably not something to mess with. And that card . . . Never seen anything like it. The sheer power and ability it would take to manifest such a thing . . . that’s got some oomph behind it. And I truly hope it never happens to me again. I’m not qualified for this kind of magick, let’s be honest. Let’s stick to headaches and personal existential crises, right?

Well, I believe that’s enough fun for one day.

End session.

JAKE:

After being led through this door under the direction and aid of a . . . Cat, I’m pretty hesitant about what I might find. For the first time in many a door – perhaps not since the first Ostium door that took me to Roanoke – I step through and stand with my eyes firmly closed, taking slow breaths. My remaining senses tell me little; there is next to no sound. A light breeze perhaps? Yes, I can feel it on my face. I take in a deep lungful and can smell . . . The sea . . . Could it be? Could I possibly be somehow back in the Ostium Network? Am I now standing on the terra firma isla of Gibraltar? I do have a sense of wide open space about me.

I open my eyes . . .

No such luck.

[Break]

It’s a hotel . . . A hotel ballroom in fact. And I’m overcome by a wave of hotel-related thoughts – yeah, I have to go with the water metaphor here, being on the ocean and all. Thought number one: I’m brought back to the Avalon Casino on Catalina. Yes, I know that’s not a hotel, but the ballroom possesses a grace and grandeur quite similar to the one I find myself in now. Except this one is in a state of disrepair. At the far end from me is a sweeping vista of what was once a continuous line of majestic floor to ceiling windows. The view must’ve been simply spectacular. Now every window is broken: a series of jagged glass jaws making it seem as if in the waters everything wants to bite you . . . I guess that’s not too far off from the truth. 

Thought number two is, of course, the Overlook Hotel. Yeah, it’s not just the jagged windows. This whole place is old and abandoned and used and . . . Damned creepy. So expecting Johnny to come jumping out from somewhere proclaiming his arrival is . . . Par for the course here. It is at least sunny out, with a deep, dark blue ocean. So I should be safe from the cold.

Thought number three is the sheer lavishness of this place. At one point, with the lights on, it’s must’ve been all shiny gold and silver and other expensive things from every angle. Gaudy to the max. And I’m automatically thinking of Hearst Castle. Can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it before, but it’s a California mainstay and if you haven’t been, its really worth the trip. You know, so you can see what one does when one has so much damn money they can literally fill their house with whatever decadent, priceless piece of art or furniture they feel like. 

Thought number four is . . . And yes, again, I’m aware I’m not talking about an official hotel, but the ballroom on the Titanic, or at least in the Titanic movie (made it through all three hours, and he could’ve got on the iceberg with her in my humble opinon) definitely has some similarities with this place. It’s got the same over the top feel, not to the nth degree as Hearst Castle, but there was some serious money put into this place for some seriously rich hotel guests.

And thought number five . . . Nah, that’s it. I’m all out of hotel thoughts.

[Break]

I walk across the great ballroom, feeling dust and grit crunch and scrape beneath my feet. I reach one of the broken windows and breathe in that wonderfully fresh sea air. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the ocean, not since the old rock of Gibraltar. It’s a clear sky, a warm sun shining off the water giving it that incredible glinting effect. And then something launches itself out of the ocean in the distance. I don’t catch it in time. All I see is white foam. 

Okay, whatever it was, it was big. 

Then I see another sign of movement off to my right. Again, it’s too fast and I miss it, but it looked grayish. The amount of foam is about the same, so we’ve got two big somethings out there. 

I look to the middle and don’t really focus on anything, waiting for a sign of movement.

And then before my every eyes, two monstrous sea creatures erupt from the dark waters and cross by each other like curving . . . Well, I guess a double rainbow is pretty accurate. There’s two definable halves to them: a solid bullet shaped half, and then long tentacles held together like a grouping of water pipes . . .

Holy shit. Is it possible? Gotta be.

I’ve just seen my first Kraken . . . And that’s plural.

Unbelievable.

ETTA: Is someone there?

I turn around, mighty majestic sea creatures instantly forgotten.

ETTA: Who are you? What are you doing here?

I’m not sure what to say.

ETTA: Are you . . . Frank? No, that’s not possible.

JAKE: I’m . . . Jake. Jake Fisher.

ETTA: How did you get here? What are you doing here?

JAKE: Fair questions, and they’re sort of related. I came through that door from . . . Another world. I’m . . . I’m a time traveler of sorts, and going through doors to different times and different worlds is my thing. And whatever’s running the show has decided that this place is my next port of call.

ETTA: The Transcontinental Bridge.

JAKE: The . . . What?

ETTA: You don’t even know where you are, do you?

JAKE: Not a clue. But this looks like a pretty special place, or at least was. And I just saw something out there . . . That shouldn’t be possible. At least not where I’m from.

ETTA: Well, you’re in what used to be the Transcontinental Hotel. Just past Watchtower 8. 

JAKE: Okay, that doesn’t really help. It’s almost like you’re speaking a different language.

ETTA: Sorry. Okay, the Transcontinental Bridge spans the Atlantic Ocean, coast to coast, providing a scenic and great way to travel the continents. Along the way are a number of attractions, like Aqualand, the Gold Dubloon Casino, and amenities such as the late Transatlantic Hotel. There are also Watchtowers spanning the entire Bridge, providing aid and constant traffic updates via radio.

JAKE:

From where we’re standing I can see one part of the Bridge spreading off into the distance until the horizon swallows it up. There’s not a single car in sight.

JAKE: Constant updates? Isn’t that a little . . . Excessive?

ETTA: Yeah. It is. That’s why I prefer to tell stories. Stories about the Bridge. And its history. 

JAKE: Do you know the story of this place? The hotel?

[Short pause]

ETTA: I do. The story of its sudden end. I know it all. But first, I want your story.

[Break]

JAKE: I only have so much time I get to spend in each world. I don’t know, it’s just how it is. And I just know when that time is up and I’ve got to leave. But it’s always been that way, since I went through the first door. Even if I didn’t know it then. I’m always on borrowed time, so to speak. And until recently, every time I went through a door – whether it was just me, or with Monica or Steve, it was always just us there. No other people. And I still have no idea why. It’s something I’ve been wrestling with for a long time. Why are there no people? Were they there before and once that door from Ostium was opened, did they go somewhere? Did something on a  . . . I don’t know: quantum, metaphysical . . . Supernatural level happen? Or were they never there to begin with? Is it all some construct of the Ostium Network? Something manufactured, possibly. Or is it something else entirely? I simply don’t know.

[Short pause]

ETTA: Are you . . . Telling the truth? You’re not lying to me right?

JAKE [sincere]: No. Absolutely not. This is what really happened to me. And if Monica or Steve were here, they’d back me up completely. And the no people thing is one of the strangest aspects of this whole crazy journey, and I don’t know if it’s somehow because of me, but I sure hope not.

ETTA: I don’t think it is. 

JAKE: Why’s that?

ETTA: Let me tell you my story first.

[Break]

ETTA: When I was a little girl, this hotel was a thing of luxury, where those who could afford it got to experience a piece of paradise on the Transcontinental Bridge. For the tenth anniversary there was a special party. My mom was the concierge and we got to have our own little party with the staff. I was 8, so I couldn’t keep my eyes open for long. My mom put me to bed in a special place. When I woke up I was on a boat. The day after the party there was a sign out front of the hotel saying PERMANENTLY CLOSED. 

[Short pause]

ETTA: Everyone had disappeared and no one knew where they were or what happened to them. Except for me. I got out. I was found. But I still don’t know what happened. I guess, sometimes, people disappear and there isn’t a good or logical reason for it. And you can keep worrying yourself about it, or live your life.

JAKE: That’s . . . Incredible. I’m sorry for your . . . Loss, I guess. For what happened. So you’ve moved on?

ETTA: Gods no, definitely not. I keep coming back here, hoping I’ll find something I missed. Some clue. I’ve dedicated my life to finding every little piece of this place that shows up. I’ve tried to move on, but . . . I can’t.

JAKE: Yeah, I know how that goes. And unfortunately, I’ve reached the end of my stay here at . . . The Transcontinental Hotel.

ETTA [Amused]: I hope your time here was enjoyed and worthwhile and you’ll consider us again in the future.

JAKE: Oh yes, it certainly was, and I definitely will. I’ll even give you a five start rating on Yelp.

ETTA: What’s Yelp?

JAKE: Er, don’t worry about it. But I need to get moving on, to the next place. The next world. 

ETTA: A lot of people wouldn’t believe a word you’ve said. But I’ve seen a lot on this Bridge. So, I think I do. Yeah. And I hope I’ve been able to help you, a little.

JAKE: You have. Thank you for that. Thank you for making me feel . . . Less alone in the group of people who keep losing people. The arena of lost souls . . .

ETTA: That was a little creepy.

JAKE: Yeah, it was. Maybe morbid too. Sorry. 

ETTA: So how do you make your exit?

JAKE: Same way I came in. I go through that door.

ETTA: Safe journeys, Jake.

JAKE: And good luck in your search . . . Hey, I never got your name.

ETTA: Etta. For Henrietta.

JAKE: That’s a really nice name. Good luck, Etta.

ETTA: You too Jake.

[Door opening, then closing.]

[MONICA:]

Where the fuck am I? My head is killing me. I know a literally put a gun to that thing’s head and told her to send me anywhere, which probably wasn’t very wise, and now I’m fuck knows where, but did I have to have the head-splitting pain as well? Wish I’d brought something. Medicine. Booze. Whatever. Just something.

Okay. Where might I be then? Let’s have a gander.

I’m not face-planted on the ground for a change, which is a good thing. Going through those doors really throws off my sense of balance. For a moment up feels like down, and down feels like up. Topsy-turvy like.

Okay. Deep breaths. Breath in that nice, clean, country air . . .

Because I am in the country. Well, countryside. Sort of. I’m on an . . . Island. Yeah, definitely an island. Doesn’t seem too big, as far as islands go. But enough that there’s a decent sized town here. It’s cold too. Fresh and cold. Clean. Like I said. The water’s a dark blue, looks deep. Can’t see a boat anywhere, so no way to get to the mainland if I want to.

Yeah, don’t worry, the similarity to the location of the Ostium Network is not lost on me.

I’m also picking up a Roanoke vibe. Yes, fine. I was never actually in fucking Roanoke. I know. You don’t need to remind me. But I know a guy who was. And he liked telling people what it was like. I was definitely one of those people. I got to hear a lot about it. So I fucking felt like I was there. This place is like that. Also kind of like where Ostium is. In Northern California. Also kind of like Fort Bragg. And Mendocino County, where I said my camo-fatigue wearing buddies were based.

Okay. That’s disturbing. That’s a lot of similarities to Ostium. And Jake isn’t really fucking involved.

Not cool.

But that’s why we’re here, right? To find good old Jakey.

Of course, it also describes large swaths of this country, assuming this is still ye olde United States of America, on both sides of the coast.

So other than healthy dark green trees, what else can I see here . . . Is that a . . . dome? Okay, kind of a weird place to put a dome. But then again, I don’t know where the fuck I am, so maybe it’s perfect place to put a dome. I’m definitely not the right person to say otherwise. I see some streets, some buildings, houses, pathways. So yeah, definitely getting a strong Ostium vibe here.

Could it be another Ostium? There was one class, way back when at the Ostium Network, when they talked about some other attempts to make a town. I was never exactly sure if it was the guys at the Ostium Network who tried it and weren’t exactly successful, or if it was some other group of someones. But they threw out names. Didn’t mean anything to us, really, but sure made them sound smart.

What were they?

Tanis.

Night Vale.

Limetown.

Gosh, there were a few more . . .er . . . Come on brain, do what you’re meant to do.

What the hell were they? Weird fucking names.

Oh . . . Almost got it. It was . . . Ess . . . Ess . . . Eskew!

That was fucking it! And one more . . . Damn. Something . . . Something to do with sleep? Yeah. Sleeping. No. Not sleeping. Slumber. Slumbering. Slumber . . . Slumberland! Yes!

Fucking Slumberland!

And as soon as I say that a man appears from seemingly nowhere. Yeah, I know that’s not really possible, but if I am in one of those weird aforementioned towns, then maybe it is possible. You never know. But I also think I might not have been paying much attention and he just came around a corner or from one of those buildings, through a door . . .

He’s seen me and he’s coming towards me. He doesn’t look hostile or anything, just curious. This should be interesting.

He’s not a tall guy, a bit on the short side you’d say. Five-eight. Maybe five-nine. Slim build. His face looks kinda odd, not your average-looking one you’d see on the street anywhere. Whatever that means. But his eyes . . . They’re a bright crystal blue and . . . Fucking intense. It’s like there’s a fire in them. Talk about sparkling beauties. They’re almost mesmerizing.

He’s almost here. Time to seem normal.

I’ll wait for him to talk first.

[PAUSE]

THOMAS: Hello. My name is Thomas Edward M.

MONICA: Hi. I’m Monica.

THOMAS: Hello Monica. I am a freelance sound man.

MONICA: Okay, Thomas. What do you record?

I have absolutely no intention of letting him know I’m recording him too.

THOMAS: A mysterious client has hired me to record the oral history of an obscure island community in the Great Lakes Region.

MONICA: Are you being serious?

THOMAS: Yes.

MONICA: Well, where the hell is this?

THOMAS: This . . . Is Slumberland.

MONICA: No [POT BANGING SOUND] way! Hey, what the [POT BANGING SOUND] was that? Why can’t I [POT BANGING SOUND] swear? What the hell? What the [POT BANGING SOUND] is going on here? Hell is okay, but [POT BANGING SOUND] is off limits? What about [POT BANGING SOUND]? Or [POT BANGING SOUND]? God-[POT BANGING SOUND]-dammit. [POT BANGING SOUND]. [POT BANGING SOUND]. [POT BANGING SOUND]! Why is this [POT BANGING SOUND] happening to me?

THOMAS: I don’t know. I don’t think I can help you. I’ve interviewed another person, named Doreen, who appears to have a similar predisposition.

MONICA: Predispo-[POT BANGING SOUND]-sition!

THOMAS: I would prefer it if you would refrain from shouting at me.

MONICA [breath]: You’re right. I’m sorry, Thomas. All that was un-[POT BANGING SOUND]-called for. God! It’s gonna take a while to get fff- . . . Used to that. So I really am in Slumberland?

THOMAS: Yes. This. Is. Slumberland.

MONICA: You like saying that, don’t you?

THOMAS: Yes. Indeed.

MONICA: So what is there to do for fun around here?

THOMAS: That depends. On who you ask.

MONICA: I’m asking you.

THOMAS: Well. I like to interview people.

MONICA: Uh-huh.

THOMAS: Would you be willing to participate?

MONICA: An interview? About what?

THOMAS: I’m just a freelance sound man. I’m here to record the stories of the people of Slumberland.

MONICA: But I’m not from Slumberland.

THOMAS: I don’t believe that. We are on Slumberland. You are here. Therefore you are a person of Slumberland.

MONICA: Look! For [POT BANGING SOUND] sake! Five minutes ago I wasn’t here. I was in fff- . . . I was in a place called the Ostium Network.

THOMAS: The. Ostium. Network?

MONICA: Yes. A place very different from here. Probably very, very far away too. And then I was just here.

THOMAS: How did you get here?

MONICA [sigh]: Through a door. I’m looking for someone.

THOMAS: Who?

MONICA: A man named Jake Fisher.

THOMAS: I have interviewed a number of people in Slumberland. I have not interviewed or come across anyone called Jake Fisher.

MONICA: You been doing this for a while?

THOMAS [heavy]: Yes.

He says the word like he’s been doing this for a very long time. Maybe years. Maybe centuries. What the hell is this place?

MONICA: Thank you, Thomas. For your time and help. Doesn’t sound like Jake’s here. I need to move on.

THOMAS: You could try calling him?

MONICA: With what?

THOMAS: My shellphone.

MONICA: You’re [POT BANGING SOUND] what?

THOMAS: My shellphone. It’s how we communicate with people on the island. Although you need to make sure you pay for the call.

MONICA: Or what?

THOMAS: Or the seagulls will come for you.

And that’s all I can [POT BANGING SOUND] take. I start running. As fast as I can. Away from him. I don’t look back. I keep going and count to fifty in my head. Putting as many trees and building between Thomas and me as I can. My breath is coming heavy now and I slow down, needing to catch it.

Then I finally look back.

Thomas is nowhere in sight. Okay. Good. Then I move on to my next thought.

How the fuck am I going to get off Slumberland?

Hey! Well, that’s something. At least I can fucking swear now.

Fuck yes!

Fuckitty-fuck-fuck! With a fucking cherry on top!

Okay. Now that I’ve got that out of my system . . . Let’s head on over to that lighthouse over there.

I jog over and it doesn’t take long. I can hear weird sounds and even weirder music from within. I don’t think I want to find out who it is or what’s going on, on the other side. I concentrate, close my eyes, turn the handle, and pull open the door . . .

The music and sounds are quieter now, muffled. I open my eyes and see the darkness I’ve seen so many goddamn times after opening a door. Before I can decide if I’m going to hear any banshees, I step through, closing the door behind me.

JAKE:

I open my eyes and see nothing but darkness at first. I suppose I should be worried, but I’ve got a mountain of other concerns to deal with, so this just gets added to the list. I force myself to be patient and wait. I’ve got nothing left to lose at this point. Light soon starts trickling in like streams of bubbles sparkling and rising to the surface, caused by people jumping into a calm ocean. Sorry to get a little purple prose on you there. I guess it’s something I’m learning about myself. You see . . . it’s because I don’t know much about yours truly. Who I am. What I do. 

I’ve . . . I’ve lost all my memories.

[PAUSE]

JAKE:

Now that I can see a bit, the optical information being transmitted to my brain isn’t very useful. I’m in a dark place without any artificially created light. But there are streaks, as I mentioned, coming through gaps and small holes: individually they afford a low level of lumens; collectively they cast a vague glow, giving me a chance to get an idea of where I am. 

I’m in some sort of box.

Great. So not that helpful.

Let’s try my other senses to see if I can extract some more information.

My ears pick up a repetitive rumbling of machinery and movement. My body, my sense of touch feels that movement as I am jostled softly side to side. 

Okay. The box is moving. So . . . I’m in some sort of vehicle.

I take that as my cue and pull myself to my feet. I have some aches . . . Quite a few actually, but no acute pains. Feels like no bones are broken, which is definitely a good thing. And I’m just going to keep ignoring the fact that I don’t remember who I am or how I got here for the moment. I take a few steps forward. I’m dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I’m able to see on my shirt are four bugs. Beneath the insects are the words: THE BEETLES. SACRAMENTO ZOO. At first this means absolutely nothing to me, and then, like a bingo ball slotting into place, I remember this shirt. I got it at the Sacramento Zoo a while ago, years before, but I’m not sure how many. I had fun at that zoo. Seeing the cool giraffes up close. The lions letting everyone know how tough they were. And the pink flamingos looking weird all standing on one leg, grouped together. But the important thing is . . . I remember now. The T-shirt triggered my memory of it and the trip to the zoo. 

So . . . The bad news: I still don’t remember who I am, why I’m here, or where I am. The good news: I’ve remembered something, which means I can hopefully remember more somethings as time passes.

Okay. Feeling much better about myself now than I did five minutes ago.

[PAUSE]

JAKE:

I take more steps, getting to a wall, touching it, then going to another, and doing the same. There appears to be nothing else and no one else in here but me. No other objects. The walls feel . . . Inconsistent. On one I feel wood I think, on another some sort of plastic maybe? Nothing very useful, but to me it means a lot. It means I appear to have just my memories missing from my brain. All the other details and knowledge from breathing and walking to knowing the difference between plastic and wood is there. 

And just when I start feeling good about myself, things change.

[SOUNDS OF SQUEALING BRAKES AND END OF MACHINERY]

Okay, the vehicle’s stopped. Why? I start looking around for a way out, some sort of exit, and I can’t find one. I’d like something clear and concrete. You know, something like a lighted rectangle that clearly says: Here’s the door. 

No such luck.

And that’s when . . .

[KNOCKING SOUND]

I don’t know what to do.

[KNOCKING SOUND]

I turn to the wall where the sound is emanating from, closing in on it.

[LOUDER KNOCKING SOUND]

MAN: Is deuh somebody in deuh? 

JAKE: Do I answer him?

MAN: … *Listening*

JAKE: What do I say?

MAN: Hello?

JAKE: Is it too risky? But then what have I got to lose?

[A FEW STEPS WALKING AWAY]

JAKE: Wait! I’m in here! I need help!

MAN: Hello? Is deuh someone in deuh?

JAKE: Yes! I can’t . . . I can’t find the door. I don’t know how to get out.

[SHORT PAUSE]

JAKE:

A thunk and click comes from the wall I think the door might be on, and it opens suddenly, pouring in a crashing wave of sunlight and dust almost blinding me. When my eyes catch up to the light I see the barrel of what I think is a gun poking  into the dark room through the sheet of light. I freeze, not knowing what to do. 

MAN: Whu ah yu?

JAKE: I don’t know! I don’t remember!

MAN: WHU AH YU!

JAKE: He shouts in a strange accent.

JAKE: I don’t know! I think I hit my head or something, I can’t remember. 

JAKE: That’s not what happened, but maybe it will buy me some favor or time from this man. He steps through the wall of dust-filled light rays and I can see his face. It’s dirty and scarred, but not angry. I see more fear than anything else. 

MAN: How did yu get en heuh?

JAKE: Like I said… I don’t remember. I think I hit my head. 

JAKE: The man lowers his gun slowly to look closer at my head. 

MAN: Ah yu okay?

JAKE: I think so.

MAN: Ok. Yu need to seh Joseph.

JAKE: Who is Joseph?

MAN: Come. 

JAKE: The man waves his hand for me to follow him as he turns and steps through the door frame. I follow and step out onto a metal catwalk of sorts and look around. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.  It’s an . . . RV. But an RV from Mad Max. Not so much with the crazy weaponry, but with all the stuff on the roof and the panels on the sides. It looks old and like it’s been going since the time of the dinosaurs. But it also looks like it could keep going until the heat death of the universe.

And that’s when I cast my gaze away from the RV and see a long row of the greatest number of RVs I’ve ever seen assembled other than at a ZZ Top convention . . . Yeah, I’m not sure why there would be a lot of RVs there, but I just feel like there would. But there are a fucking lot of RVs here. As far as I can see. They’re all stopped. People milling about. Some resting. Some chatting. A portrait of normal life except instead of houses, it’s RVs. 

The man clicks his radio and speaks a language I don’t understand, except for the word “Joseph.” There are a lot of people milling about, and only the man I’ve already met seems to notice me. He stands there keeping a wary eye on me. I hear the rumbling of another engine as a small ATV-like vehicle pulls up. Same MAD MAX aesthetic.  Okay, I’m starting to like it here.

The first man nods and lets out a curt “Joseph.” The new man gets off his ATV while keeping eye contact with me. He slides down the cloth that was covering his mouth and walks to a ladder like thing on the side of the RV we are standing on. He climbs up and approaches me. He holds his hand out, as if he wants a hand shake but it’s at the wrong angle. Clearly a local greeting of some type. I decide it’s best to shrug instead of attempt it. The man I presume to be Joseph looks at me strangely. Turning his focus to the other man, they share a short conversation in that strange language. Joseph talks slower and not as smoothly as the other man. 

JOSEPH: You thirsty?

JAKE: When those words exit his mouth I become very aware that yes, I am thirsty. 

JAKE: Yes actually, very.

JAKE: I notice that he doesn’t have the strange accent the other man has.  Joseph takes his own canteen off his belt and hands it to me. I take a drink. The water tastes odd. Not bad in any way, but it reminds me of the mineral water that we have back home, except I’ve never tasted the background flavors before. New minerals in their water maybe? Without realizing it I finish what was left in the canteen. I hand it back with a small apology. 

MAN: Refill suh?

JAKE: The man says as he gestures to Joseph’s canteen. Joseph quickly shakes his head no, and I think I detect what could be interpreted embarrassment on his face. 

JAKE: Your friend there got me out of that box and now you gave me your water. Thank you.

JOSEPH: Glad I could oblige.

JAKE: I almost expect him to tip his hat . . . If he were wearing one. I’m starting to get a Stephen King’s Gunslinger vibe off of him. Roland of Gilead. From Mid-World.

He’s got a good five inches on me. Strong build. Not the sort of guy you’d want to be on the receiving end of in a fight. But his face is kind, the eyes concerned. He’s definitely a good guy.

JAKE: Hi, I’m . . . Jake Fisher.

JAKE: Three seconds ago I didn’t have a clue what my name was, but forcing myself to say it causes it to just appear in my mind and fall from my mouth. I’m almost certain it is my actual name. The other man is a little worried that I suddenly know my name. I instinctively hold out my hand for a handshake.

He looks at my hand like I’m flipping him the bird, clearly he doesn’t know my gesture either.

JOSEPH: Joseph Crane. Sorry, I…. 

JAKE: Oh, no problem. It’s just a hand shake.


Joseph reaches out his hand and grasps mine in a strong grip. He’s instantly got the hang of it. I’m really starting to like this guy.

JAKE: What’s the deal with this place? You are all really into RVs, aren’t you?

Joseph looks at me then. Stares at me long and hard, reaches some sort of  decision, and gives a curt nod. 

JOSEPH: Follow me. Stay close.

He puts a hand up to the man who starts to follow us and then he turns and moves ahead at a fast pace. I immediately follow, needing to if I want to keep up with him. No clue where he’s going, so I need to keep close. I can’t help noticing the people, as we speedily walk in between groups of them. They’re all staring at us as we come close to them . . . Check that, they’re all staring at me. Because . . . Because I obviously don’t fit in here. I’m dressed different. I just look different. These people look . . . Hardened by life. They’ve spent their days traveling the road for most of their lives and it’s made them suspicious. Correctly so, I believe. 

I stop looking and focus on where Joseph’s taking me. He’s reached his destination: one of the RVs, and he’s got the door open for me. The look on his face urges me to move faster. I do and I’m soon in one part of the RV. It’s a pretty decent-sized space and is well-lived in. There’s a lot of stuff. Trinkets and books and parts and bits and pieces everywhere. But not like it’s because Joseph is messy, or he wants to show off that he has a lot of stuff to people. No. These are loved and cared for; well used items. All of them. They are objects of wealth and importance.

JAKE: This place is amazing!

JOSEPH: Thanks.

He closes the door behind him, checking through a window to make sure we don’t have any too curious people wanting to know who I am. Then he turns to me.

JOSEPH: Take a seat wherever you like. Feel free to move stuff around if you need to. You hungry? I’m gonna make some tea.

JAKE: Tea sounds great, thanks.

I find a chair in one corner and pick up the machine part and leather-bound notebook on it, putting them on a side table. I take a quick glance at the pages in the book, flicking through it. Lots of notes. And lists of names. The man is very detailed.

As I sit down I see a little machine sitting on a ledge, wires that lead into the low ceiling of the room and what appears to be a microphone. I’m definitely curious, but I’m not gonna touch anything in here without permission.

JOSEPH: Oh, that’s my transceiver. I’m charging it right now.

He finds himself a seat nearby.

JAKE: Transceiver? For what?

JOSEPH: I’ll get to that. 

He stares intently at me for a minute. I then notice the large blade on his back. Somehow I missed that before now. And yet, I don’t feel in danger. Quite the opposite in fact.

JOSEPH: What were you doing in that caravan?

JAKE: Is that what you call them? Caravans?

JOSEPH: Mhm.

JAKE: Honestly, I don’t know. I just woke up there. I don’t know how I got there or where I am…..

JOSEPH: … No one sent you?

The question makes me wonder what is going on in this strange man’s life. 

JAKE: No… No one sent me. I’m sorry… I don’t know how I got there. 

After a moment of thought he says:

JOSEPH: Do you mind if I record our conversation?

He shows me his little recorder he’s got in his pocket. Just seeing it sets off a firework inside my mind.

JOSEPH [concerned]: Are you okay?

JAKE: Er . . . Yeah. Sorry about that. Seeing that device, it . . . Jogged my memory. And yes, feel free to record. I’m . . . I’m actually recording too. 

I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. The one that hasn’t needed a charge in a really long time and is just permanently set to recording and uploading now. And this realization, like the others, just comes to me, from nowhere. I show Joseph my phone. His eyes widen so much I think they might fall out of his head. Then he’s up out of his seat, looking through his books around the room. Checking one pile, then another, not finding the specific title he’s looking for. Then he does find it, flips it open, and starts leafing through pages until he finds what he wants. He shows me what he was looking for. 

The book looks old. Downright ancient. Definitely a collectible. He’s pointing to an illustration. It’s a picture of something that looks like my phone, well technically it’s two pictures: one of the front side and one of the back.

JOSEPH: According to this illustration, it’s a mobile PID?

JAKE [uncertain]: Yeah?

JOSEPH: We have a  . . . Good amount of tech here on Oasus, but I never expected to see one of these working.

He stares at me intensely.

[KETTLE BOILING SOUND]

The sound breaks the moment and Joseph gets up to make the tea. I’m not sure what to think about all this, and what he’s told me so far.

He doesn’t take very long and then he’s back handing me a steaming mug. I can see through to the bottom of the ceramic mug, so I’m guessing it’s some sort of herbal tea. I know it’s gonna burn my lips but I take a sip anyway, just to taste something.

It does burn, but in a way that lets me know this is a normal reaction to something. That things are running okay. Since it feels like the complete opposite for me since I regained consciousness in the dark room of that RV, this is a welcome pain. 

The flavor is full and a little bitter, and very enjoyable.

JAKE: Thank you. It’s great. So where the hell am I?

He stares at me for a moment.

JOSEPH: You really don’t know do you? Do you know of “Oasus”?

I shake my head.

JOSEPH: Okay. You should know this…. But all the people that you’ve seen here today. We’re descendants. Long ago, many, many hundreds of cycles, humanity left Earth and eventually discovered this planet. One ship crashed, killing everyone. The other two survived and the people inside created a settlement here. They called this world Oasus.

I have many thoughts flooding my mind now, almost drowning me. 

JAKE: I . . . I am from Earth.

JOSEPH: Yes. You have to be. You look human. Like us.

JAKE: No. I mean, I live on Earth. That’s where I’m from.

Joseph’s eyes widen again. He’s truly shocked this time.

JOSEPH: I don’t know how that can possibly be. What stims have you been taking?

JAKE: I’m serious. I don’t know how to explain it but I swear to you. 

Joseph stares at me for an uncomfortable moment and lets out an “ok”. I’m not sure if he believes me or wants to hear the rest of the story.

[HAVE JOSEPH SAY “OKAY” TO RUN IN THE BACKGROUND OF THIS NARRATION] 

JAKE: I have no clue why I’m here. For what purpose? How did I get here?

JOSEPH: How would I know?

JAKE: I don’t…. Wait a moment. If Oasus has been settled, why do you keep moving?

JOSEPH [CONFUSED]: We are always moving. We have to. Because of the darkness.

A heavy weight suddenly forms in my (gut?); a black hole that feels like it’s sucking everything in. I’m instantly covered in sweat, and I start to shake a little. 

I speak the two words, but they barely come out in a whisper.

JAKE [WHISPERING]: The blackness . . .

JOSEPH: We call it the darkness. It came from beyond this world, some time after humanity arrived here. There’s a great cleaving in the earth that shows where it hit. And from it came the darkness. Anyone who’s caught by it . . . Is dead. Disappears. Is never seen again. No one knows exactly what the darkness does to you, because no one has ever survived.

JAKE: The darkness . . .

The memories continue to come, even stronger now with this new trigger.

[SHORT PAUSE]

JAKE: I have to face it.

JOSEPH [incredulous confusion]: What? No…

And then I hear calls from outside, people making announcements. The sounds of people getting ready.

JOSEPH: It’s time to get moving again. We’ve spent enough time resting. The caravan needs to get moving.

I stare Joseph in the eyes and then give him a resigned look. I put the mug of half-drunk tea gently down.

JAKE: Thank you for the tea and the hospitality. You’ve been very helpful. 

He catches on a few seconds too late, and by then I’ve got the door open and I’m outside and running. I hear him calling behind me.

JOSEPH [YELLING]: Jake! Stop! This is madness!

[SPOKEN SHORT OF BREATH AS JAKE’S RUNNING:] I know it is, but at the same time I know it’s something I have to do. I can see it now. The darkness . . . The blackness. In the very distance. Slowly but surely coming. Coming for these people.

Coming for me.

I run faster toward it. I look back and see Joseph starting to chase me in his small vehicle from earlier, but he’s stopped by a small group of people shouting and gesturing. He’s angry and sad at the same time. I hope he won’t dwell on me too long. I keep running, feeling my breathing coming fast, my heart pumping. It takes a long while, but I manage. I pass countless other vehicles and people. Most stare but none try to stop me. I don’t know how long I run, but I keep going until my legs are numb. It feels like the closer I get to the blackness, the faster it comes. I dont realize when it happens but suddenly I notice that the sound of people and engines are no longer around me. I’ve ran past them all. Then my strength is sapped. I sit down, almost falling. I wait a while. A long while. For the blackness to come and take me once more. I hear a strange and frightening noise. The noise of a thousand movements and murmurs at once. It’s a cacophony of wet flesh and snarling sounds. 

What is it? 

I don’t care.

I’m ready for it.

Then it is just before me. 

Then it is enveloping me.

And everything goes black . . .


[MONICA:]

I regain consciousness to pain. Only in certain parts of my body. My arms. My thighs. The side of my face. Okay. It’s localized. Localized to . . . The parts of me that are on the ground. What the fuck happened? Oh yeah, I dove through that rift and I didn’t know if I was ever going to open my eyes again.

I slowly do and everything is hazy at first. Parts of me are hurting because I landed and am laying on them. Plus it’s a gravel floor which is not helping. I gingerly pick myself up. The hurting parts start hurting less. Good. It wasn’t serious. Maybe a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing major.

Now, where the hell am I?

It’s dark. Not completely dark. Not full dark. But dark like the inside of a closet. Gonna need to give it some time to let my eyes adjust. Good. That’s a little better. I can see shapes now . . .

What the hell is this? I feel like I’m in that crazy eighties movie . . . Oh, what was it . . . Tron! There’s glowy outlines everywhere. But it’s not like I’m in some crazy computer game or a bizarre future. It’s . . . It’s Ostium. I see streets and buildings. But it’s like at night. When everything’s turned off. Except for the strange florescent outline around anything.

So it’s . . . Ostium Tron.

Okay then.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE]

Oh my god it hurts. Everywhere. More than it should. What happened to me? I was . . . I was dealing with whatever the fuck was coming through  that rift and . . . And then those hideous arms came out and grabbed me. The sizzling got louder. Everything got incredibly hot and loud . . . And then . . . And then . . . I blacked out.

And now I’m here.

I can tell it’s Ostium. That other Ostium. The one that was dark and with the weird glowing outlines. The one Steve was in, when he met that thing. He said he thought it was female, but it completely terrified him. I’m pretty sure that’s what was trying to break through those rifts each time. Come through to the Ostium Network and where we were. Was it coming for us? All of us? Or was it about the place? The Ostium Network? Did it want to get there? Did it know there was no one else there? That it was a place ripe for the taking? Or was it after Zhang? Or the whole quantum computing system they’ve got there?

Speaking of which: where the hell is it? I’m in a . . . Room. I think it’s a room. I can see the outline of four walls. And there’s the outline for a door.

Just tried opening it . . . No luck. The handle won’t even turn. So I’m guessing that thing put me here. Dumped me here . . . And left? Why? What did it want with me? If it wanted me and took me, why has it just abandoned me here? Don’t get me wrong. I’m very happy to be alive right now. I’m just . . . Very confused.

So instead of trying to work out what the hell it was and why it’s gone away now, or why I’m in a lot of pain . . . I’m just going to delve into why I think it was coming after us. Yes. That’s what I believe now. I don’t think it was trying to get to the Ostium Network. Maybe . . . Before we arrived it was. Because I hadn’t pissed it off then.

Please allow me to explain . . .

This thing . . . I’m not going to call it a she or a he or a crone or anything . . . I just don’t know at this point, and from what I have gathered it’s clearly not human and attaching any sort of gender to it seems pointless right now. I’m just going to call it that: it. This thing feeds off of energy. Power. Or it needs it at least. Probably as food. Sustenance. Like any entity be it an atomic particle or a blue whale or a goddamn black hole. It needs to feed or it dies . . . Ceases to exist. And please, don’t bring antimatter into this right now. I don’t know yet where it came from or how it came to be . . . Anything like that . . . But it was coming along and saw Steve and wanted to feed. That’s why it came after him. It didn’t get him. It was still hungry. It saw him go through a door. Maybe it tried some doors. Maybe it tried all the doors . . . None of them opened. So then it tried making it’s own door. Opening a hole in reality to somewhere else. Somewhere not here. Just like I’ve done a couple times now. It takes a lot of energy. A hell of a lot of energy. But I’ve only just started doing it, so maybe it’s like your alcohol tolerance . . . Stay with me here . . . The more you drink, the stronger your tolerance gets. The more ostiums you open and create, the better you get at doing it, and maybe it requires a little less energy each time. A little less of your life-force, so you’re not left unconscious afterward.

And that’s when it started punching holes through to the Ostium Network. Maybe it’s been punching lots and lots of holes to different times. Different Ostium Networks? Different iterations of it . . . Different tangents . . . Maybe it has something to do with the blackness and all the shit that’s been happening to us since Monica and I have been going through the doors of Ostium.

Yeah. That makes my head hurt too. You’re not alone there. I’m going to back off of that thought path for a bit. Put a pin in it, as they say. Yes. It’s a possibility, and we’re going to leave it at that for now.

I’m also pretty certain that whatever took over Steve and controlled him . . . Using the gun to kill those people . . . The ones that we were eventually able to save . . . It was all the same thing controlling him. And since we were able to stop it from controlling him and killing them, as well as doing the whole fucked-up Saw movie at the Fort Bragg house, it’s all been sort of reset. Steve has control once again over his faculties and is his own person. I don’t know if he realizes this. Need to tell him the next time I see him . . .

If I ever get to see him again . . .

[Short pause]

I think it’s after me. I know . . . I know! You think I’m reading too much into this. You’re thinking: Jake, get off your fucking high horse and take a step back for a minute. But . . . As the old saying that I don’t where the hell it came from goes: hold the phone! I’m the one who opened the ostium and helped all those people escape. I’m the one who seriously changed its plans, at least in this timeline. So I can only come to the conclusion that I’m the one it’s really pissed at. I stole its chance at sucking up a          beaucoup amount of energy and life-force, so now it’s coming after my ass. Makes sense. It came through to the place in Fort Bragg. Saw what I did. It came after us like a bat out of hell. I just managed to get us out before it got us. It . . . Fucking terrified both of us. And we just made it out alive.

It clearly wasn’t happy. Maybe it was able to tell where I went, where the ostium led to . . . The particular Ostium Network I ended up in. Maybe I left a metaphysical – or ectoplasmic – trail of breadcrumbs for it to follow and find me. Because ever since we got to that Ostium Network the rift sites have been coming sure and steady.

And then I tried to face off with it. Not knowing what it was, but maybe on some level I knew exactly what it was, but I had to face it to protect Monica and Steve and Zhang and I scared it at little. Doing that thing with my hands. And whatever that white stuff was that came out . . . Yeah, that sounds kind of wrong, but that’s what happened. I could make an ectoplasmic joke here, but I’m just not gonna, not with a ten-foot . . . Pole.

But it stopped it. Just for a moment. Made it pull back. Withdraw into its own space. And then . . . Then it saw who I was and grabbed me.

And that was the end of that.

And now I’m here. Wherever here is. Trapped in this room. Waiting, I guess . . . Waiting for it to come back and tear me limb from limb.

So basically the opposite of Beowulf waiting for Grendel.

And now I hear something coming.

It’s coming for me, no doubt.

Fucking great.

[PAUSE]

[MONICA:]

I’m on the move. Don’t know where I am. Not sure where I’m headed. But I’m on the move. Military doctrine says to not stay put, to keep your boots moving, no matter . . . Yeah, you already know all that army talk was bullshit so I’ll just move right along. Literally! I know that thing’s gotta be here somewhere. The thing that got Jake. The thing that was chasing Steve, and then both of them before. The thing that scared the crap out of them before they literally dove through a door Jake made and saved their asses. It grabbed him and for all I know ripped his head off like tearing the cover off a book. No biggie, minimum effort. But I really don’t want to think about that right now. I can’t hear anyone or anything else around. Nothing sounds like it’s moving around here at the moment. So either it’s feeding on Jake somewhere, or it’s stashed him and is slowly coming for me. Neither situation is good for me, or for Jake. I guess the last one actually is ideal for him, so I’m just going to assume it at the moment. Assume Jake’s alive and that the thing is now looking for my ass. Yeah, I know what they say when you assume. But I gotta work with what positives I can here. It got him, stuck him somewhere, somehow knew I came through, and is now out for my blood.

[Jokingly/Half-heartedly] Woo-hoo.

So that’s why I gotta keep moving. I stop every couple minutes or so. Listening. Waiting . . . Perhaps waiting for the inevitable. But I did what I had to do. I wasn’t going to let him dive into this thing head first by himself. Risk his life again and leave me waiting and wondering. No fucking way. I’ve also got another card up my sleeve. A certain kickass little gun. Yeah, I know you’re yelling: “Well, how fucking convenient she should be carrying that right now, in this precarious situation, when she really fucking needs it.” But here’s the thing. Ever since I left Ostium through that crazy tiny pantry door I’ve been carrying that piece. Haven’t left it at my place at any point. It’s been in easy reach in a pocket or tucked into my pants the whole time. Because since then I haven’t known what’s going to happen next for a single moment, so I’ve always been prepared. When I dove through that rift I wasn’t thinking, aw, shucks, too bad I didn’t bring that little ass-kicker, or geez, sure happy I packed that piece today. It’s been in my possession the whole time, and for good reason. Haven’t had to use it yet; haven’t needed to. But I’m sure as fucking happy I’m carrying it now. And yeah, that’s right, it’s in my hand; the safety’s off, and is ready to zap anything that comes at me. I’m ready as fuck to face down this thing, whatever the fuck it is.

So I keep stopping. Waiting. Getting ready for something to come out of nowhere and then be right in my face. And then I turn down a street and sorta recognize myself. Yeah, I know, in this place it’s next to impossible. All the buildings look sort of the same, and there are no numbers. But I’m remembering the shape of the road; the way the streets go off it and at which points. Something in my head is making sense of it. So I go with it, trusting my intuition, like Jakey so often likes to do. I turn down a street, then make a right turn down the next, as soon as I can. Then I’m running down that street straight to the clock tower. Door number one. Except there’s no number on it. And here, in this fucked up alternate Ostium, the actual clock tower just reaches up into the darkness and I can’t see the top. It just sort of  . . . disappears. Great. That’s real comforting.

Then I’m at the door, gun held to the side of my head. Trying to steady my breath and listening again. I’m looking back behind me, not moving. Trying to take it all in without giving away my position. And then I see movement. Something is out there. Looking for me, I’m guessing. It could be looking for Jake too, but since it grabbed him and dragged him into this place, it doesn’t seem likely.

I can’t hear it, but I can see it moving. It’s too far away. But then I hear it speak. It instantly raises goosebumps all over my body.

CREATURE: Where are you . . . Little one. I know you came through. I can . . . Smell you . . . I can . . . Feel you. I’m coming . . . For you.

Then it moves out of sight. I wait. I hear no more words of encouragement. Good. That’s my cue.

I turn the handle and step inside the clock tower, no clue what I’m gonna find on the other side.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE:]

I look at my surroundings. I don’t have much space in here, but it’s what I’ve got to work with. I move all the way to the back wall, farthest away from the door. I could try hiding behind the door as it opens, but that thing is going to just know and it’s not going to help at all. At least this way I’ve got a couple extra seconds as it comes at my throat, after dealing with whatever it’s been doing since it left me here. I’ve got no weapons. Nothing to protect myself with. Just my bare hands . . . And my feet. Let’s not forget I can deliver a mean kick when I mean to. Didn’t do all that soccer in high school for nothing.

I watch the handle as it turns and tense up, ready to launch myself at it. Those extra few seconds may mean the difference between life and death for me.

The door swings open and I let fly!

MONICA: JAKE!?

I twist away and face-plant into the wall. It’s not fun, let me tell you. I peel myself off the black stone and look at my visitor.

JAKE: Monica!? What the hell are you doing here?

MONICA: Happy to see you too, soldier.

JAKE: Er . . . Sorry, I’m happy to see you. Genuinely. I just . . .

MONICA: Never expected to see me again? Alive?

JAKE: Er . . . Yeah, kinda.

MONICA: Thought you could pull the old Mulder trick one more time?

JAKE: Huh? Oh . . . You mean leaving you back there?

MONICA: Yep. Kinda want to smack you upside the head right now for that.

JAKE: That’s . . . Totally warranted. But I don’t think that would be the best decision right now.

MONICA: Why? Because we’ve got that fucked up thing coming for us?

JAKE: Yeah, sure. But also because I know it’d really hurt.

MONICA: Also true. How do you wanna play this?

JAKE: Play . . . This?

MONICA [unimpressed]: What’s your plan, braniac, for taking down the big beastie?

JAKE: Er . . . I . . . I don’t really know. I was going to face it and . . . Do whatever came naturally.

MONICA: Were you going to try to talk sense into it? Talk it down from ripping out your throat?

JAKE: Yeah, sure . . . Maybe . . .

MONICA: Fucking typical!

JAKE: But I was also going to try to do something . . . With my hands. Like I did before. When I made it stop.

MONICA: Yeah. I saw that. It looked like some Gandalf badassery. Pretty impressive. You think you’ve got enough in you to do it all again and put a stop to it?

JAKE: I don’t know. All I can do is try.

MONICA: Yep. That’s right. Fortunately, I’ve got this nifty gun to help out.

JAKE: Is that like the one Steve was using before when he was going through the doors after those men?

MONICA: I think it’s crazier than that. I think it is the exact gun, and somehow we now have two of them. I don’t really get it. It’s all timey-wimey stuff, right?

JAKE: Sure. But I’m glad you’ve got it. And . . . I’m glad you’re here with me right now. To face down this thing.

MONICA: Awww, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Thank you, Jakey. It was on my tail before and I think it’s about to arrive. You ready?

JAKE [breath]: As ready as I’ll ever be.

[PAUSE]

CREATURE: I have . . . Arrived . . . Come meet me . . . My pretties.

[MONICA:]

We step out of the dark room into another dark room. But it’s all really familiar to me: the rooms of the clock tower, where Jake and I have spent a lot of time. And then just me by my lonesome. Seeing it in this darkness; it’s still really disturbing. Just ain’t right. And then there’s the thing standing before us in the doorway. That also ain’t right. On a major fucking level. I think Steve was right: it is female. Or some sort of female, but definitely not of the normal human variety. It’s hunched over; frail and decrepit. But I know this is part of its act. It’s smoke-screen. It’s subterfuge. It wants you to think it’s old and weak and helpless. That it needs you to help.

All the better to get you with its big sharp teeth . . .

I ain’t falling for that shit. Jake isn’t either. He’s standing next to me; arms at his side; hands splayed open, ready to try and do whatever it is he did before.

I told Jake one last thing before we stepped out of the other room: follow my lead.

The gun is held by my side. The thing is looking at us. It lifts its arms a little. The jaws open, as it begins to talk. A single word comes out:

CREATURE: Thank . . .

Then I whip up the gun and shoot it in the face.

Jake is there, my partner in crime, raising his hands and willing them to do what they did before. The white mist appears and shoots toward the thing. It’s bright and vibrant in this dark place and feels . . . Comforting. And again . . . Badass.

The thing is pushed back. This two-pronged attack has taken a toll. It drops down to one of its knees. The soiled cloak it wears hiding its lower form. I assume it has knees. We watch and wait. It stays that way for ten . . . Twenty . . . Thirty seconds, then slowly stands back up again.

I fire again and Jake follows up. Same attack. Same amount of power. This time there’s a different result. The thing doesn’t drop down. It pulls back a little, hunching into itself, then straightens once more. The attack didn’t take as much of a toll this time.

Shit.

We need to hit it with something stronger. But what?

And then a thought comes to me. A totally, fucking stupid thought. But . . . What have we got to lose at this point?

MONICA: Jake?

JAKE: Yeah Monica?

MONICA: We need to do something.

JAKE: Yeah, but what?

MONICA: We need to . . . Cross the streams.

JAKE: What? . . . Oh! But how?

Now I look at him. Not giving a shit about that thing before us trying to end out lives.

MONICA: Follow. My. Lead.

I snap my head back at it and start pumping the trigger, firing repeated blasts into its form. As I do this, I side-step closer and closer to Jake. He gets the idea real quick, his hands raised; the white whateverness spilling out his fingertips like you know what. Soon we’re touching each others’ sides, bringing out hands closer.

Jake brings his palms together forming an arrowhead. The expelling beam becomes thicker and more solid; more defined.

Then Jake’s beam and my laser blasts do the impossible, but exactly what I hoped: they connect, then wrap around each other, forming a blasting braid. It’s . . . Pretty fucking awesome.

This new beam is stronger and brighter and just kicks the shit out of the thing.

We keep it going for a whole other minute and then I stop. Jake does the same. The silence is very noticeable.

The thing is on the ground. Smoldering. Smoke comes off it in small columns. The smell is . . . Soot and cinnamon, with a hint of . . . Rosemary? What the fuck?

We slowly walk toward it. Not the best move, I know. But we need to be sure we stopped it. We need to be sure it’s dead.

We reach it, and I’m stopped in my tracks. Jake is too.

[CRYING SOUNDS]

It’s . . . Shaking. Shaking because . . . It’s crying. The sounds are definitely feminine. It’s a girl crying. Sobbing.

I should think this a trap. A ploy with its last ounce of strength to get back at us. But . . . No. The sounds, the emotion. It’s all so real. What she’s been through . . . It’s too much.

She never deserved this.

I don’t know where this thought came from, but it feels right. It feels true. This creature is a young girl and she’s been through so much and hasn’t deserved any of it.

I look to Jake and see tears on his cheeks.

JAKE: You’re crying.

My eyes widen in shock.

MONICA: I am? You are too.

He touches his face and seems just as surprised as I am.

Then we look to her. She’s speaking words now. The words of a young woman. But ragged, strangled Such . . . Sad . . . Words.

CREATURE: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For everything I’ve done. So, so, so sorry.

MONICA: We can’t leave her here.

JAKE: What?

I don’t know if he didn’t hear me, didn’t understand what I said, or just wasn’t willing to comprehend.

MONICA: We can’t leave her here.

He looks at her for a while and then at me. Weighing. Deciding.

JAKE: Are you sure?

MONICA [breath]: No. I’m not fucking sure. But I know it’s not right to leave her here. Like us, she has a story. I feel something happened to her. For her to end up like this. We owe it to her to help her. To give her another chance. Just like I gave you another chance, and you gave me another chance . . .

JAKE: And Steve got another chance.

MONICA: Yes . . .

JAKE: Okay. [Accepting] Okay. Shall I . . . Carry her?

MONICA: No. I’ll do it. She can’t weigh much, anyway I’m stronger than you. But I need you to open an ostium and get us back to Steve and Zhang and our world there.

JAKE: Right.

I throw the woman over my shoulder. It feels like I’ve tossed a wet raincoat over my back. Barely anything. We step outside the clock tower into the street. I look to Jake, he nods. This’ll work for him. I wait for him to do his magic.

[PAUSE]

[JAKE:]

I’m so fucking tired. I can barely stand up. That power, that life-force I shot out has left me an empty husk. But I don’t have a choice. I have to do this. For Monica. For that thing . . . No, that woman. She deserves just as much of a chance as the rest of us.

We’re outside now, and I debate leaning against the black wall, but I don’t. I don’t want to show Monica how exhausted I am. I’ll just worry her. I’ll do what I always do: I’ll make it work.

I have to.

I take three deep breaths, then close my eyes and imagine the Ostium Network. Our Ostium Network. With Steve there, and Zhang. And our apartments. Our few personal things we’ve started accruing. The familiar feel of the place I’ve come to know. It’s a lot easier this time than last. I let those thoughts and feelings flow through me. Enhancing the image of place in my mind, giving it life and substance.

Another breath and then I . . . Open the ostium.

My eyes spring open and I see the doorway before me. It’s not huge. An oval with shaky edges that bend in and out. It’s not great. Not impressive at all. But . . . It’s enough.

JAKE: You first. With the woman. I’ll be right behind you.

Monica looks at me. Thinking. Weighing her options. Wanting to send me in first. She’s seen through my facade and knows I can barely hold myself up. But she’s got the woman. She doesn’t have a choice.

JAKE: Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you. I promise.

MONICA: Okay.

Then she looks me right in the eye.

MONICA: You better fucking be.

I can’t help snorting. This helps.

Then she leans in and gives me a quick kiss.

She turns and slides through the haphazard ostium. I watch and wait, making sure both of them get through with no problem. Then they’re gone and it’s just me.

I take a few breaths, then will my aching legs to move and shuffle myself to the ostium. It’s damn hard. I’ve got to keep it solid in my head, and do this whole walking and going through it thing. It seems too much. Not just one thing too much. Two things too much. Why do they both have to be so hard? I shouldn’t have to do either. I should be able just to go back into the clock tower and sleep. Sure. Why not. It’s right there. It’s all black and weird, but there’s a floor. I can sleep on the floor. In fact . . . I can sleep on this floor right under my feet. I can just collapse on down until there’s no more falling and then I can close my eyes and just sleep for . . .

No! No. I can’t do that. I need to get through the ostium. The image in my head has grown hazy, almost blurry. I force it to snap back, but it’s not perfect. Sort of there and sort of not there at the same time. But I’m completely out of juice and it’s the best I can do right now. The ostium is still in front of me. Just a couple steps to go. I force one leg in front of the other. It’s like lifting concrete. But I get it done. And then I’m there. I can’t quite make out what’s on the other side. It looks right. It matches what’s in my head. But it’s also kinda of fuzzy. Unclear. And then with my last ounce of strength I lean forward and fall through the ostium.

[PAUSE]

[MONICA:]

We’re through. Both of us. I’m on my knees, and I lay the woman down softly. She’s barely moving, but she’s breathing. That’s good enough. I get back up and look back at the ostium . . .

. . . And watch it close up. Gone. Nothing. And no Jake came through.

The tears spring to my eyes again. And then they’re running down my cheeks. Then I’m yelling a bad word at the sky.

FUCK!

STEVE: Mum, is that you? Are you back? Are you and Jake back?

MONICA: Yes . . . And no. I’m back. I brought her back. To help her. But Jake . . . Jake . . . Jakey didn’t make it back.

It’s all I can say. I drop the datapad to the ground.

Then I’m by the woman, lifting her up. Shaking her awake. She’s barely conscious. But reacting a little. I slap her face twice: one side, then the other. This does the trick and her eyes spring open. She’s not really aware of where she is, or who she is it seems.

1. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck.

MONICA: I need you to get him back! I need you to get him here right the fuck now!

She stares at me, confused.

MONICA: Do what you need to do and get him here. Now!

Then her eyes clear a little. She looks at me. Then she looks at the spot where the ostium was before. She looks around. She understands. She looks back at me, scared. Finally, she speaks.

WOMAN: I . . . I can’t. I don’t know . . .

MONICA: You do! You do know how! You did it! Lots of fucking times.

WOMAN: No . . . I don’t know where he is.

MONICA: He’s back in that fucked up place we all were before.

WOMAN: No. I feel that place. He’s not there anymore. He’s gone from there.

MONICA: Then where the fuck is he?!

She looks back to where the ostium was. Shakes her head in that same way again: to one side, then the other.

WOMAN [Quietly]: I. Don’t. Know.

MONICA: Fuck!

I’m up. Walking around. Wanting to do something. Then I stare at the same spot she kept staring at. Thinking. I look up to the top of the rock. Where I know Steve is. My son. Talking to Zhang. Trying to find out what the hell is going on here.

MONICA: I gotta do it. I can’t just leave him.

I turn back to the woman.

MONICA: Do it! Open an ostium!

WOMAN: A what?

MONICA: A fucking door. Open one up!

WOMAN: To where?

MONICA: I don’t care. Anywhere. Anywhen. Just do it.

WOMAN: Why?

This time I pull the little gun on her.

MONICA: Just. Fucking. Do. It!

WOMAN: I . . . I don’t know if I can.

MONICA [Anguish, pleading]: Just. Try!

She nods. She turns. And then there’s a look of incredible pain and sadness on her face. I can barely watch, then I can’t. I turn to the space we’ve both been looking at and I see an ostium start to open. Small at first. The size of a dinner plate. I walk up to it. It starts to grow. When it gets to the size of a tire, it’s good enough. I turn back to her.

MONICA: Thank you.

Then I dive through the ostium and I don’t care where or when I end up.

No matter what it takes.

No matter how long it takes.

I’m going to find Jake.

And I’m going to bring him back.